


Here You Come Again

by MuseOfTheFanatics



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: F/F, F/M, Het and Slash, Multi, Slow Burn, War, Wintry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-05
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-01 05:27:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 27,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23020045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MuseOfTheFanatics/pseuds/MuseOfTheFanatics
Summary: Kallias and Vivianne are meeting again after years away from each other, and trying to navigate their friendship, family, emotions, and the impending danger of their home
Relationships: Kallias/Viviane (ACoTaR)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 19





	1. The one at the (re) beginning

A soft scratching on Kal’s door stirred him from sleep with a groan. Glancing at the clock on the mantel he cursed under his breath. It was the small hours of the morning, and he’d rested only an hour or two. He’d been sleeping fitfully for days now, ever since he’d overheard his mother and father planning the sleeping arrangements for Viviane’s family. 

It had been nearly a decade since her family had chosen to come to the Hall of Crystals, years since they’d been relocated to the border . Kal didn’t know whether to feel excited or terrified that they were returning now.

Kal swung his legs over the side of the bed, into a pair of thick, rabbit fur slippers and stumbled to the door, rubbing his eyes. He opened it a small crack before a tiny snow fox darted in. Kal gawked at the thing, sizing it up, as it laid a neatly folded and sealed note at his feet. Notes by fox were common in war camps, less common in palaces where crystalline lower fae would melt through the icy walls to whisper their secrets. 

Kal scratched the ears of the fox, and picked up the note, and reading by the dimmed light of the last faelight in his room, he broke the silvery seal, running his thumb over the jagged broken V. Kal sighed, and unfolded the note. “Hey, Frosty. Meet me in the globe, one hour.” 

It took a few times reading over the words before he fully understood what she was wanted. In the Eastern wing of the palace, there was a small staircase that led up to the roof, to a nest where archers had once notched and flown arrows during the war. While the north had not known many battles, forces had tried and failed in the earliest years to take the Crystal palace, and the soldiers of the tundra had paid dearly to hold their home. After the treaty his mother had needed something beautiful, needed to claim their home again when the snow still settled pink, remembering the blood it had absorbed. 

To oblige his mother, the High Lord had enchanted a dome over that nest, to be nearly impenetrable. To hide the secrets of the family, to allow them to gaze at the night sky and at the auroras that danced through the evening.In the 200 years since Prythian had last seen war, it had become the safe haven of his family’s, a secret spot to most, but it had been the place where he had laid on deep, velvetine couches with Viv to point out the constellations, and tell their stories. When they found stars they didn’t know, she had always spun silken tales, of lovers crystalline tears being preserved in the glassy night sky. Kal had listened, and he had been happy. The globe had been the place where his powers had first manifested when he beckoned a snowflake years ago, it was where his father had given him his first sword, aptly named Miskunn, mercy in the forgotten language. Kal had a privilege his father had not, he had the chance to be merciful with his sword, as his father had prayed he would. 

The globe was a staple of his childhood, but recently his family had left it dormant. The Hall of Crystals was finally home again, it finally felt safe. The north had known peace for some time. Kal was grateful for the peace, basked in it. He wasn’t ready to be High Lord, let alone High Lord during war.

Still, the globe held so many memories, and now, he had a feeling, or maybe it was a hope (Kal couldn’t decide), that the globe would be home to another. He found himself running his fingers through his hair and down to the short icy stubble growing across his jaw. The fox gave him a questioning look and with the tilt of its head, glanced as if to say, “Are we going or not?” 

Kal had a moment’s hesitation. He should wait, he should see her in the morning with her parents and sister, he should do things properly. There was a proper way to approach this all, he didn’t have to dive back into knowing Viviane, he didn’t have to know her at all. Kal realized he had a choice, he could go back to bed, and see her in the morning when they were decked out in finery, and exchange polite glances over hot coffee, or Kal could move his ass and go see the girl who had been his other half throughout their entire childhood. Kal took a shallow breath and walked to the window. The wind was howling fiercely, the storm they’d weathered to get to the Hall of Crystals was nightmarish, their reindeer must be exhausted, recovering from a storm like this took days, at the least, weeks sometimes. She would be staying here for a while perhaps 

It seemed the Cauldron had forced his hand, he decided, he couldn’t avoid her, he couldn’t risk making things uncomfortable for all of Solstice. He should go. Be brave he said to himself. It seemed funny to say that, especially about Viviane, she was the one that had once inspired bravery. She had inspired him to spar with her, then the world. Made him try Solstice delicacies, wild game pies that were gifts from the Autumnal courts, she’d made it a chore trying to find the one with the most assertive smell. Viviane had once been the source of his bravery, and now she was poking at the very foundation. 

I’m going, he decided. If it were me writing to her, she would come, or at least he hoped she would come. 

Regardless of the thoughts storming through his mind, Kal quickly pulled on gray pants, and a deep blue sweater, throwing a fur cloak around his shoulders and creeping out of room, past the door to his parents chambers, and towards the eastern corridor. 

This early in the morning he met few servants, save the ones tending the fire who all swiftly turn their eyes away from their ice prince sneaking from his chambers. He knew that word of his early morning traipse through the castle would shortly be reported to his mother, but that was a problem to be dealt with in the morning. 

Kal picked up his pace and hurried down the halls, following the swift footsteps of the little snow fox that paused to look back every few moments as if to say, “She’s waiting for you, come on!” He passed swiftly through the halls, taking little note of the splendor that had been displayed for Solstice, the great rooms he hurried past twinkled with fae lights, and boughs of evergreen tangled along the hearth, where in each room, a roaring fire keeping the rooms warm and inviting. 

Those were of little note, however, as Kal climbed the steep spiraling stairs, cursing himself for not bringing a candle. It was pitch black, and he was relying only on memory to not break his ass falling down the stairs. 

It was a great relief when some minutes later he’d found his way to the very top, to the closed door that would reveal Vivi. Though he knew exactly who laid behind he couldn’t bring himself to lift the door handle, and rather found himself staring at the palms of his hands. They were calloused now, they hadn’t been the last time he’d seen Viviane

It hit Kal how nervous he was, he could feel his hands shaking, and it took a great deal of control to steady his breathing. Ice raged in the pit of his belly, creating a heavy lump, a sinking feeling. He didn’t know if he could face her. In the several years they’d been separated, they’d written. It was frequent at first. Their exchanges were as if they were in the same room. Conversational as she settled in at the border, complaining at first that there were no girls, plenty of females training and cooking and mothering, but no girls to play with or talk to, and that none of the boys would come near her, scared of her father's wrath, and scared of her too, Kal supposed. 

They’d parted when they were children, little more than teens by human standards. And now here Kal stood, hand paused on the door, the great sense of weight burdening him, begging him to turn around, or open the door, or to do something, anything at all. 

The fox looked at him, sensing his fear, or perhaps laughing at his indecision. The twinkle in its eyes were casting judgement on him, on the cowardice he was showing. 

He was afraid of her, Kal realized. It had been years, and gradually he’d written back less and less. His uncles had hauled him into training, thrusting his first sword in his hand, and suddenly he had felt more like a male, a gangly, gawking male, but a male nonetheless. It had felt strange writing to her about that, stranger to feel it. And then it had felt like their childhood, like their friendship had left them. It had blown out like a candle, but the taste of it was still on his tongue, like the memory of a sweet wine he’d tasted once before. 

Do it, he said to himself, just do it. Open the goddamn door, he commanded his arms.

Kal cracked the door, moving past the it sheepishly, his eyes suddenly locked on the rabbit slippers he wore. “Shit,” he muttered softly, what a way to make an introduction, or, reintroduction he supposed. 

“Hi, Kal,” a voice said softly across the room. It took great effort to peel his eyes away from his feet, but when he did, he was glad he opened the door. 

“Viviane,” he whispered, taking a moment to drink her in. She’d just arrived, he mused, her snowy leather boots lay dripping next to the hearth. Looking her toe to tip his fears were confirmed. Just as he’d changed she had too, staring at him with a toothy grin was a female who looked nothing like Viviane. His friend had left with knobby knees, unrefined manners. He took a breath, she’d had hair chopped to her chin, hair that they had cut when it got in the way of their first and second and third attempts to race reindeer. Her mother had been furious. There had been a change, her hair was now long, and silvery. Silver or moonlight or snow, he wondered. 

“I didn’t know if you’d get my letter, it’s rather late, but,” her feet shifted back and forth, like a nervous dance, “but I figured it was worth a shot to see you before all the excitement tomorrow.” He’d been staring like an ass, he realized. 

“Your friend scratched at my door, I couldn’t ignore him,” Kal wanted to smile at her, but he felt his face fixed in concentration, still observing the changes. She was clad in the steely gray of the border camps, she was nearly invisible to the eyes of even the high fae in the snowy mountains. But here she couldn’t disappear, tunic and leggings clinging tightly to her as she dried off from the storm that wailed outside. Kal was certain moments ago her hair had been frosted over, and her eyelashes coated with snowflakes. 

“Oh, Boris, he’s a faithful friend from home, we’re bonded, we don’t part,” she smiled to her companion, who’d slipped in the door seconds after he’d arrived, moving to curl up near her boots by the fire. 

“Would you like some wine? Coffee? Tea?” Anything, he silently begged. 

“The wine, please, if you have it,” she paused, “Which is stupid, of course you’d have wine this close to Solstice, and you obviously wouldn’t have offered it if you hadn’t had it too, I suppose. Wine, wine is good,” she glanced up to the ceiling, and he watched her chew at her lower lip, the way she had when she’d gotten herself into a bind and had to explain herself to her father. 

“Wine, I can do wine,” Kal walked as quickly as he could to the cupboard, grabbing bottles of white and red wine, and bumping his way under the stove to find a pot. He had a stilling feeling that he was going to need a lot of wine, Cauldron help him. 

Quickly the task calmed him. He glanced over his shoulder, Viviane was watching with a small smirk. 

“You cook now? A prince of the Winter Court?” 

Kal couldn’t help but smile. “It’s pretty hard not to learn anything, Viv. Mother insisted I learn how to make wine with my sisters.” He snorted at the memory, “And when we were learning, Eira knocked garlic in her pot and spoiled the whole batch.” 

Kal shook his head as he added the orange peel, spices, and sugar to the slowly heated pot. The smell wafted up, and he let out a small sigh. Tonight was bitterly cold, and he was hoping the wine could revive him. 

Kal quietly turned a timer on and left the wine to simmer, and once again turned to look at Viviane, “This will take a few minutes, can I get you anything now… before it’s done?” 

“Oh, of course, um Coffee?” Coffee. Coffee was easy. Kal could do coffee. 

He swiftly prepared the hot drink, and dumped it clumsily into a mug, taking care not to touch her fingertips as he handed it to her. 

“So,” he looked around the room, begging for something to pop out to him to start a conversation, “Um, uh, how is your sister?” Wow genius, a human could do better than this. It’s not like you’ve had years of etiquette lessons to prepare for awkward conversations. 

Viviane raised her eyebrows, “She’s doing well, I think she took to the mountains better than I have. She’s basically a wild woman now.” She shifted back and forth. 

Kal could feel his skin tingling from the awkwardness, and he wished for a moment that he were as charismatic as his sisters. Melia and Eira would take command of the situation, they would make sure there was music, and conversation, and warmth. Kal could only think about the frost he usually brought along with him.

The timer went off. Finally. Kal quickly lobbed the wine into goblets, and passed one to Viviane, before moving to take a drink for himself. 

The first sip brought happiness to his heart, the wine, the wind, it was home. Viviane looked to be having nearly as spiritual a moment with her wine, as he had with his. 

A smile spread quickly across her face, “This tastes exactly like your mother’s, I’m grateful she taught you.”  
The moments passed and the silence once again tensed, it seemed like neither fae wanted to break the tension. Viviane finally gestured to the plush cushions set next to the fire, “I’m freezing. Sit with me?” she nodded behind her. 

Kal tensed, but found his feet obeying some unsaid command and leading him to Viviane. This is what he had come here for, he hadn’t left his room this late, and lost sleep, to be too cowardly to speak with her. Still, he stiffly sat, avoiding her eyes as he settled into the cushion. 

When he finally looked to her face he was surprised to see that she looked nearly as nervous as he felt, averting her eyes from him. “Why the late night invitation?” He asked softly. Why couldn’t this wait until morning, he wondered now, hearing the faintest tinkling of bells behind him. 

She turned to him, her blonde brows crumpling, “I didn’t know if you wanted to see me, and I didn’t know if I wanted to see you,” she shifted, stretching her feet to the fire and leaned back, “The whole way here all I could think about was how awkward breakfast was going to be, how strange it would be to sit here in this great hall with your family again. It was driving me crazy,” she still talked with her hands, and Kal suddenly felt himself warming, “-it just seemed like the dumbest thing to have to see you again in front of a crowd. The globe felt better… safer, maybe,” she trailed off, looking from his smiling lips to his eyes. 

A short battle raged in Kal’s head. He knew he had more than a little control in deciding how close they could be again, “I haven’t slept well in days,” he watched her absorb what he’d said. “Not since I found out you were coming back,” finally he let himself understand why he was so tired, why he was shit in meetings, and shit at sparring, shit at being a prince. He was anxious to remeet Viviane. 

“Oh?” He noticed her eyes were the same light blue as the sky on a frigid morning, and the borderland’s winds had whipped pink into her cheeks, and chapped her face. 

“I think I’ve been feeling the same sort of things you’ve been feeling, I mean, it’s all my fault.” he raked his fingers through his icy hair, “I’m the one who stopped writing. You have perfect reason to hate me.” He dragged in a breath, “I mean, Viv, we’d been friends since we’ve been walking, and I’m the bastard that stops writing back.” He’d never said that out loud. He’d never let himself think about it. His shoulders tensed, in anticipation for the thrashing he knew she was about to deal to him. 

“You did stop writing,” her fingers nimbly started making small plaits in her hair as she spoke, “I thought maybe you’d have a good reason for that. Do you?” She glanced from her work to his face. “Do you?”

“Not one that’s nearly good enough,” her eyes dimmed. 

“Oh, that’s unfortunate,” She shifted from her stretched out position, drawing her feet under her. 

“Incredibly unfortunate,” he nearly groaned. What does one say, when one has killed a friendship? One stops referring to oneself as oneself, Kal noted. 

“I didn’t know how to talk to you when you were so far away. I knew I could it’s just it seemed like anything I could say would be too much for a letter, so I kept pushing the important stuff back and back thinking I’d just tell you when I visited, or when you came home, and it was just never said.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m sorry I don’t have a good reason, and I know that what I said isn’t good enough, and I know you hate me, but I just-”

“Hate you? Me? Hate you? I thought you hated me?” Viviane’s eyebrows were arched, and her mouth had dropped into small, perfect O. 

“What? That’s absurd, that’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard, why in the world would you think I hated you?” 

Viviane scoffed, “Because, frosty, you stopped writing. Hell, after awhile I started writing nonsense in my letters to see if you were even reading them,” she huffed, 

“You are smart enough to know that polar bears can’t fly, and don’t have three snouts aren’t you?”

“Polar bears? Who in Prythian are talking about polar bears having three snouts?” She’s lost her mind, Kal thought. She’s been at the border for too long, she’s gone mad from boredom. 

“I knew it!” Viviane cried out, sitting up on her knees and pointing sternly at him, “I knew you weren’t reading my letters. You just stopped.” She settled back into the cushion, quietly. She looked hesitant. 

“Oh,” Kal found himself biting his nails. 

He watched as Viviane took in a deep breath, “You’re kind of an asshole, you know that. We were born two days apart, and I’d never done anything without you. Maybe I was stupid, but I didn’t think that the borderlands would keep us from being friends.” 

“You’re not stupid, I was just wrong. I’m sorry Viviane. I wish I could take it back, I’ve always known it was the worst way I could have handled things. It’s such a mistake, it feels like a mar on my heart,” Kal took a gulp of the wine, still warm on his throat. “I know it’s too late to repair things, I’ve done enough to hurt you, and that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do. I just froze, and couldn’t figure out how to talk to you, and so I just cut you off.” Kal buried his face in his hands, he felt ashamed as he felt his eyes burn glassy with tears. Princes don’t cry, princes especially don’t cry in front of females they’ve hurt. 

Kal felt a hand grasp his wrist and move his hand from his face. Viviane had moved across the floor. She took his face in her hands, “It’s not too late, Kallias, it’s never too late for you. I’ve been waiting for you for years. We wait for our friends, we keep them in our hearts, and we wait to be reunited.” 

Kal felt himself staring in awe at her, her pale face seemed almost to glow when she finally smiled at him. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness, Viv.”

“No, you don’t. But it’s mine to give and yours to take. On one condition, though, frosty.” Kal perked up, “You can’t leave me like that again. You have to talk to me. You have to promise me.” 

Kal drew in a sharp breath, “I promise, Viv. I promise I won’t.” He felt a slight burning on his wrist and looked down to see a tattoo the size of a coin, a light and silvery snowflake shone against the paleness of his skin. Promises for High Fae of their kind, those who wield magic, were not empty. Promises were rare, and they marked the bind between the two, a shared contract. 

“This is a second chance, Kal. There’s not a third. Maybe there shouldn’t even be a second, please don’t disappoint me.” She looked serious. Viviane once again reached for his wrist, her rough hands turning over his palm, and tracing the small tattoo. 

Viviane moved away from him, and back to her perch on the cushion. The little snow fox had long ago fallen asleep beside the fire. 

He watched as she took a sip of wine, now cold, and looked him steadily in his face, “This doesn’t make us friends again, you know. I mean, I still care about you, and I’ve missed you, but it doesn’t mean that we’re the same as before.” 

“I understand, Viv,” he said seriously. 

She took in a sharp breath, “We’re starting over, completely over.”

“I can do that,” he nodded.

Kal knew he was young, but it had been a nasty well of guilt every time he’d thought about Viviane, about how shitty of a friend he’d been to her, and he’d known as soon as the letters had stopped that he had made one of the greatest mistakes of his life. About the letters that still lay unopened in a box in the back of his closet. Second chances were rare amongt their people. The frost and snow that enveloped them had hardened them to outsiders, and had hardened them against each other. The Winter Court had strict policies of trust. Viviane’s father had been a friend of Kal’s father since they were boys, and when Kal’s father had ascended to High Lord, it had only made sense that his boyhood friend would join him in council. Promises were not broken, and friendships were not lost. 

So, Kal had understood the seriousness of her forgiveness. It was a gift, and a kindness than not many would have bestowed on him. The snowy markings on his arm would eternally mark him, and if he broke the promise, it would bleed, it would color the tattoo to show the spoiled nature. 

Viviane smiled at him softly, “I’m happy you followed my note.” 

Kal’s own smile warmed in respond, “I’m happy you sent it.” 

It was then that Kal saw the hint of rays cross the earth’s edge, the sun was rising. They’d been in the globe for several hours, though the brunt of it felt like only minutes had passed. It seemed impossible that in the darkness he’d crept through the castle like a coward, scared to face a foe when he was really happening upon an old friend. 

He and Viv settled down into the cushions, leaning back to look at candy colored sky, the remaining clouds from the storm tinted pink and yellow. They quickly fell into the rhythm of talking to each other once again, he could feel the graininess in his eyes draw them to close. It was easy to fall asleep in the globe, easier to fall asleep on the cushions next to Vivian like he had when he was young, and for what felt like the first time in forever, Kal fell asleep. 

To Be Continued...


	2. Solstice begins with a Brunch

Viviane rolled over, clutching the fur covering her closer to her chest and snuggling deeper. She’d talked to Kal until the sun rose, until it had been impossible to keep her eyes open a moment longer. Viviane had nestled firmly into the fur rug on the floor in front of the hearth. Boris at some point had crawled next to her, curling up on the pillow she’d laid her head on. The journey had been longer than she’d expected, not all in her family could winnow, and by foot it was icy and restless. But when the High Lord called, her father came, that’s how she’d left the Hall of Crystals to begin with. 

Vivian shifted onto her back and looked at the sky. She’d slept only an hour or so, despite the exhaustion. They talked until dawn, she thought again fondly, looking over at his sleeping figure. He was sprawled across his half of the rug, the elegance of him gone with his sleep. She was sure that if she got any closer she would see a small trail of drool fall from his mouth, like it had years ago. When Kal slept it seemed to reverse time, he looked young when he was quiet, regardless of the scruff, or his floppy blonde hair. As a child he’d been lanky, too tall for his own good, with no footing. There’d been many times when she had witnessed him plant his rump firmly on the ice (ice that he had begun to control mere weeks before she’d left.)

It was strange to think that she had once lived in these halls with the High Lord and his kin, here there had always been enough to eat, and the fire always had enough kindling, and the beds had always been filled with the soft down goose feathers. She had once been the kind of girl that lived in a palace. Not anymore, she sighed. 

Viviane lugged herself off the floor, scooping up Boris and her boots before glancing at the clock on the mantel. She had more than an hour before she needed to join her family at the High Lord’s table to Solstice breakfast. Viviane hesitated, she knew she should wake up Kal, but their conversation, though it had gone well, had drained her. She didn’t know how she could look at him just yet in the light of the full morning. She wanted a bath first, a hot bath warm enough to pinken her skin and make her hair shine. She needed that luxury before she met him again. 

Eira, she’d have Eira wake him up. Though Kallais had stopped writing years ago, Eira had not. She’d been a constant after Viviane had relocated to the border. A constant when her body changed, and when she’d had her first crust on a brutish winter soldier training her. Eira would wake him up in due time. 

Viviane, however, deserved a bath and clean clothes before she’d next face her old friend.

\---

“Kal! Pst! Kal, wake up,” He groaned and opened his eyes to Eira standing over him. “Hi sleepy head,” she sang at him, bending down to fluff his hair. 

“Leave me alone,” he moaned back. His eyes shot open. He was in the Globe. It hadn’t been a dream, he’d slept here. Kal whipped his head around quickly to see if Viviane had received the same rude awakening he had. 

“Oh, brother she isn’t here,” Eira smirked, “Viviane had the good sense to wake at a reasonable hour, though she was kind enough to let me know that you might have fallen asleep in the Globe last night, and suggested I wake you before you miss breakfast.” 

Kal groaned, he and Viv talked until sunrise, relaxed or not he slept very little. 

“What time is it?” He said, rubbing the sand from his eyes.

“Nearly ten.”

Kal quickly sat up, “When does mother want us in the dining room?”

“Half past ten,” Eira smiled and let out a sigh looking down at the delicate silver watch that wrapped around her wrist, “I think you’d better run brother.”

Kal took off at a near sprint, making his way from the eastern corridor, across the castle, to his bedroom tucked away in the north wing. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit he   
repeated in his head, trying his best to make a mental plan of action when he hit his bedroom. 

Shower, pants, tunic, boots, cloak and run, he thought. He could do that. 

Making it to his room he hurled open the door and not unlike a tornado he grabbed clothes from the armoire and climbed, albeit begrudgingly, into an icy shower, lathering and rinsing with a speed he’d never before achieved. 

He pulled on his dark grey pants, struggling to get them on over his half dried legs, and forcefully tugged the light blue tunic over his head. With only one glance, and finger combing his hair, he grabbed his boots and cloak, and ran, barefoot still, down the hall towards his parents private dining chamber. 

It was when the clock struck half past ten that he was tugging his boots on outside of the door, hair dripping wet into the hall. 

He took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart, and slipped in the door. 

“Ah, Kallias, nice of you to finally join us,” a voice came booming from across the room. The High Lord of the Winter Court sat amongst his friends and family, with a twinkle in his eye he peered at Kal from across the table. 

“Father, mother,” he greeted, taking the seat beside Eira quickly, trying not to flinch at the awkwardly loud sound the chair made scraping against the floor. He made himself busy by twisting his napkin between his hands, and avoided the scowl his father no doubt had for him.

His mother, with her high, clear voice called out across the table, “Thank the Cauldron we’re all together again. I’m so thrilled to see our oldest and closest friends at this table once more. Eat up, we’ve a lot planned for Solstice!” A shimmer lazily crawled across the table and gilded trays of hot pastries, warm porridge, meats, hand pies and honey cakes appeared. Kal’s mouth began to water, the mug next to him filled with rich, black coffee, and finally after his first sip he looked up to see Viviane smiling at him from across the table. 

She somehow looked even more lovely in the daylight. Her hair now almost seemed to glitter, though it was half tied back and neater than the night before. The deep blue of her sweater made a stark contrast between her pink flushed cheeks and the paleness of her eyes. 

Eira elbowed him sharply in the side, making him let out a small yelp, “Stop staring at her, weirdo, she’s a guest not the entertainment.” Kal instantly flushed. 

Kal let out a small grunt and nod in agreement, and turned to grab a hand pie. They were perhaps the best thing about Solstice, his nurse had shown him how to make them when he was a boy, and there was something that almost made him feel important while eating something this perfect. He understood how the flavors merged, and how the ginger somehow balanced with the caramelized pear, how the vodka from his father’s storage made the crust lighter, crisper. To Kal, it was nearly a spiritual experience when they showed up at his family’s table. 

“So, Kal,” the general, Viviane’s father, called across the table, “How are you taking to your training?” The spell of the pie was over, Kal quickly tried to chew, preparing to answer.

“He’s taken to sword fighting like a polar bear to fishing,” his father called out, beaming with pride, “and damn if he isn’t half bad on a polar bear at that.” 

Kal smiled broadly, his father’s compliments were rare. “Thank you, father, I’ve had good teachers, though I’m sure I’m not as well trained as your men at the borderlands,” he smiled over to the general. 

Kal’s father turned his attention to the general, and even far down from the head of the table where the High Lord sat, Kal could just make out him asking the general about Viviane and Viola’s training. 

“You trained at the border?” Kal asked, to which Viviane quickly chewed, moving her hands about to cover her mouth as she swallowed a great mouthful of honey cake. 

“I did, everyone does.”

“How? What was it like? Who trained you?”

She smiled brilliantly at him, and Kal could almost feel his heart skip a beat, “I trained with the soldiers, the soldiers sent to the boarders-”

“You mean the giants we send?”

“Yeah!” She took a deep breath, “And they taught us how to use a blade, how to hide, how to hunt and ride. What else would we do to pass the time? Make sure the snow was clean?”

Kal couldn’t help but smile, “Do you better hunt with snares, or with an arrow?”

“Well, traps can be a pain, the triggers can freeze shut, and then you’re out of luck, and a day's work wasted. I enjoy tracking, the snow makes it easier to stay on your prey’s trail.” 

“I’d never thought about triggers freezing shut, I know the borders are colder than here, but I’m surprised we’ve not employed magic to keep the traps from freezing,” Kal trailed off. 

“We tried to strengthen the steel, but any other alchemy and it shatters on an animal and they get away. We’ve tried heating it, and then it melts through the permafrost. It’s a particular area of interest for my sister to find a new way to trap.” Viviane leaned over to nudge her sister playfully. 

“That’s fascinating,” he looked over to Viola, “We’ve got a whole section of the library dedicated to different types and styles of magic, maybe there’ll be something there that could help?”

Viola smiled, she looked almost like a mirror to her sister, “By the Cauldron, I would love that.”

“You have the run of the library, then. You both do,” he said, nodding to Viviane. 

Viviane cleared her throat, “So, you, Kal, what is your weapon of choice?” She smiled cautiously at him. 

He chuckled. “Swords. By far, though I haven’t done more than sparring and training here, there’s been no need for battle of late, thanks to father’s fine managing of Winter’s relations,” Kal’s father nodded at him from down the table.

“Kiss ass,” coughed Eira under her breath, earning a glare from their mother. His mother’s ears were sharper than a wolfs, if you whispered the wrong thing, she knew. 

Kallais quickly cleared his throat and returned to the pleasantries of the conversation. 

“I should like to spar with you sometime, I think,” Viviane looked at him sturdily. “I wish to see if you are as well trained as my father’s men.” A smile spread across her face.

Kal grinned widely at her. They’d sparred with sticks as children, and played pretend, that they were the part of the High Lord’s battalions, those who rode into battle with wolves, and elk, and bears, and ravaged the enemies of Winter, banishing them from the land. 

Melia’s eyes widened from where she sat, “Kal, do you mean to fight our guest?” 

“If she wants to,” he nodded towards Viviane, “Why should I not spar with our guest?”

Melia’s mouth dropped ever so slightly into a tiny O, “Because Kal…”

“Because why, Mel? Because I am a girl?” Viviane stared her down, earning a glare from his sister. 

“Because you’re a lady, and because it’s improper,” Melia settled on, shifting in her seat to direct her conversation elsewhere. 

“I think you should fight him,” Eira said softly to Viviane in a mock whisper across the table, “I want to see you knock the big oaf on his ass.”

Kal let out a short snort, earning a quick glance from his father. 

“I should like to see you kick my ass too. Should we meet this afternoon? Before we leave to dress for dinner. 

“Perfect, I’ll have my man sharpen my blade, unless you’re afraid of a little papercut.”

“Were it anything less than deadly, I’d be offended,” Kal laughed at her. “I’ll come find you, be ready around two.”

Melia looked at them incredulously, “You’re actually going to spend time freezing outside just to fight each other? No thank you. It’ll be cold enough when we have to go to fulfill the blessing. I’ll be inside and warm until then.”

“Oh, I don’t know Mel,” Eira said, reaching for a slice of quiche on the table. “I think it could be fun. We could make an afternoon out of it!” Under her voice she said, 

“Snag a couple bottles of wine, maybe make a little cheese plate. What do you say, Viola? Willing to go outside after your long trek?”

“You said a cheese plate? Tell me more.” Viola beamed at Eira. 

“Oh, you’ll have to trust me. I make a mean cheese plate.” Eira smiled deviously, returning to her quiche. 

“I’m in,” Viola said, looking over to her sister, “that is, if you are.”

“Let’s do it,” Melia, are you sure you’re not interested? The best part of going out into the cold is coming inside to warm up after.” 

Melia looked up with surprise, “You want me to come?” 

“Of course,” Viola nodded fervently. 

Mel looked over to Kal and Eira with confusion, “Do you want me to come too?” 

“Always, Mel,” Kal put a hand on her shoulder. 

“If I come, what will we do when we return? If the most fun is warming up, then we should make an evening of this whole activity, shouldn’t we?” Her fingers nervously went to pick at the skin on her nails. 

“She’s got a point,” Viola said, looking at Eira. 

“Can I make a suggestion,” Mel said, a soft smile reaching her cheeks. “I think it might be fun to host a girls night in the globe. Eira and I really don’t get the company of women, other than the daughters of courtiers who’ve been sent to beg for their parent’s favor.” 

“I know what you mean,” Viviane looked at her thoughtfully. “Viola and I are mostly alone, everyone at the border has a purpose, and while there are women, we’re often kept separate from them.” She exchanged a glance with her sister. 

Kal looked around for a moment at the women who surrounded him. He’d never thought of Eira and Melia as lonely because they’d always had each other, but he was realizing that while he had made the acquaintance of many of his father’s soldiers, they had been nearly isolated in the palace. 

“I think I can sacrifice one night away from you both, dear sisters. Somehow,” he quipped, laughing to himself over his coffee. 

“It’s settled then,” Eira said with a single clap of her hands. “We’re going to watch Viviene hurt our brother’s pride, and then we’re going to have a night in, thank the Cauldron.” 

Kal turned to Viviane, “We’ll meet at two, do you have your own weapon, or will you want to borrow something.”

“Psh,” Viviane laughed. “Do I have my own weapon? What do I look like, a newborn calf?”

Kal put his hands up in defeat, “Alright, alright. I’ll come for you at two.” 

Kal shoved the remaining bite of pie in his mouth, and looked to his mother. “Excuse me, but may I be excused, mother?” 

“Of course, you’ve got to get a little rest if you’re going to fight a seasoned warrior like Viviane.” She smiled at him, and with a wave of her hand, the plates before him disappeared, glamoured away. 

Kal walked around the table to kiss his mother on the cheek. “Thank you, mama.” He smiled at his father as he strolled out and back in the direction of his rooms, determined to get a short nap in before he went against Viviane. 

Breakfast had been better than he could have hoped for. He’d been strengthened by the presence of his sisters. He couldn’t help but be in awe of Eira’s ability to quell tensions and rope people into her folds. Melia had stepped in it, but she’d always been more reserved than her siblings. Mel had been born into a different world, one where their father was fighting a war and where their mother was holding the Winter Court together by the silvery threads of her skirt. Tradition had been so ingrained in Melia’s survival that Kal knew she operated differently than either he or Eira did. 

Kal made it to his rooms finally and opened the door to see his bed, waiting and welcoming him in. It took him less than a second to strip down and climb into bed, under blankets of fur flannel. Solstice started the day after tomorrow, and for twelve days after the longest night his family and his people would revel in their power, they would drink, eat, and celebrate the Cauldron’s blessing of winter. There was no taking a fae to mate as the barbaric Spring Court’s rituals required, there was celebration of life continuing on in the frozen climate, and the celebration of the way of life winter had granted to them. 

Kal called from the wall a frost fae, who seemed to melt and reform from the very walls. The puddle soon formed and refroze into a young woman, a lower fae with milky glass eyes and sharp ears dripping with icicles.   
“Would you be so kind as to wake me before two o’clock?”   
The frost fae took one long look at him and nodded, closing her eyes before walking seamlessly into the wall.   
Kal fell into his nap swiftly, to the thought of clear blue eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all, I'm uploading chapter 2 today instead of Wednesday because I have a boatload of stuff to do this week for midterms. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy and are getting a feel for the characters, and I hope I'm setting a story up in an interesting way for you.


	3. Bruised Bums

It seemed like only half a heartbeat later when his eyes fluttered open. A frost fae standing over his bed and chilling the room until his teeth were chattering. Kal leaned forward to take a peek at the clock on his mantel, thirty minutes until two. The frost fae had kept their word. 

Kal swung his legs over the side of the bed, and stretched his toes. He leaned his neck from side to side cracking it, before he stood. He was still exhausted, but couldn’t bring himself to regret the talk he’d had the night before with Viviane. 

She’d told him about the border, mainly how their life was different. She’d talked in a hushed voice, like she was sharing secrets, as she described the polar bears and how their harnesses jingled with silver bells as they sauntered through the camp town. He could still hear the melodic sound of her laugh, and the snorts that accompanied it, as she talked about her first time corralling a reindeer (also the time she broke her coccyx). 

Kal heaved a sign, and moved to the pile of clothes he’d left on the floor. He tugged his grey pants on, enjoying the warmth they brought. He walked over to the armoire, choosing one of his well-worn shirts. He swiftly decided on a beige tunic that had once been lovely, but now was threadbare, and stained from the exercises he’d conducted with his father’s men. 

Kal rolled his neck a final time, sitting down to tug on thick woolen socks and well work boots. To Viviane’s, he decided at last. He’d put it off long enough, taking his time to think over the practicality of his clothes. 

Kal hailed a frost spirit from the wall with a quick gesture, “Where is Viviane’s room?” He asked the household keeper. 

The frost spirit opened her clear, milky eyes. “South wing, young master. Near the other guests.” 

“Thank you, friend,” Kal watched as the spirit was absorbed back into the stone wall, leaving nothing but the chill of her body behind. 

He walked from his room, relishing in the clicks and clacks his boots made over the stone floors, especially where the frost crept in. His ancestors had tried for centuries to keep the frost out, fortifying the Hall of Crystals in dozens of new fashions, but never managing to consider that the frost was coming within. Each High Lord of Winter had a frostiness to their person, it was a confirmation that they had hardened enough to be worthy of the job. His father was warm to his children and wife only, putting on a hard, impenetrable exterior to others. 

Click, Clack.

South wing, south wing, south wing, he sang as he maneuvered his way through the halls of the palace, avoiding servants carrying trays towering with last minute pine cones to be added to displays, and the odd bundle of sleigh bells here and there. His home was full, as if the air had returned to her lungs, and the beat back to her heart. With the court spread out through all of Winter’s territories, sometimes it was only his family and close staff in the Hall of Crystals. 

Sometimes it was lonely. Sometimes Kal got tired of burying himself in books, or in training all hours of the day for a conflict that was unlikely to come. His father had fought in the war against Hybern, and there was peace in their parts since the wall was built to separate humans from Prythian. Days sometimes felt empty. 

Kal shook his head, there was no need to think about sad things when there were hundreds of people in his home. He finally found himself at the entrance to the violet room, a room his grandmother had decorated for his mother when she had arrived from the Dawn court to wed his father. The interior was laid out in hues of purple and blue, like the sky as the sun touched over the horizon. Of course his mother would put Viv and Viola here. He could remember a dozen times he’d found Viviane hiding in the violet room just to bask in the murals of the sky, he was sure his mother had remembered that well too. 

Putting his fist to his mouth, Kal cleared his throat before knocking firmly on Viviane’s door. He folded his hands behind his back, and walked in a small circle waiting for her to answer. 

“Yes?” Viv called from behind the door.

“Uh, it’s me… Kallias. Would you still like to spar this afternoon?”

“Oh, um yes! Just a minute,” he heard her scrambling through the room. The sound of the little thumps of thrown shoes, and jingling of hurried belting made their way to his ear, and he couldn’t help but grin. Viviane had always been a whirlwind in her room. 

She quickly opened the door with a deep inhale, “I lost track of time, and I wasn’t really sure that a young lord like yourself would have time to spar with me.” 

Viv knitted her eyebrows together, waiting for his reaction. 

“It feels as if I have nothing but time right now. Besides, Mel and Eira will be beside themselves if they can’t take the opportunity to put together a charcuterie board.”

“Even if it is… improper?” She tilted her head towards him, fingertips playing with the end of her long, braided hair. 

“Was it not improper when we sparred as children, with sharpened icicles and wooden swords?” 

“Apparently it’s different now according to my mother. She’s afraid that it’s going to drive off suitors,” she dramatically rolled her eyes at the thought. 

Kal stopped for a moment to consider, “I would like to spar with you, but I don’t want to cause you any harm.”

She sighed, and leaned into the hallway, taking note of the empty halls, “You see, I don’t particularly care about suitors at this particular time, I just don’t want her to spend a full evening after this telling me why I should be looking at ‘suitors’,” she said, throwing air quotes around the word. 

“Well,” Kal said after a beat, “what if I’m ordering you to spar with me? Show me the border techniques for the good of the High Lord’s army? What would she have to say then?” 

Viviane’s eyes lit up, “Well, that is a plan,” she said, throwing a hand on her hip. “Give me a couple minutes, I’ll be right out.” 

The door slammed with a thud. Kal leaned against the wall, smiling to himself at his grand scheme, regardless of how grand it actually was. 

Viviane popped out moments later in dark pants, tall boots, and a worn green tunic. She had a sword strapped to her side, and her hand rested gently on the pommel.

“Ready! Are we meeting the others there?” 

“I think they should be there? Why, are you afraid of an audience when I beat you?” He smirked at her, and gestured the direction they were heading. 

“When you beat me? I’d like to remind you for a moment of our youth,” she gestured in front of her to paint the picture. “Imagine a young male and a young female, sparring with sticks and icicles. Imagine further, all of the times I whipped your ass with those sticks. Now, translate that into today. You may have had fancy tutors, but I’ve had giants teaching me.” She smiled broadly as she finished her story. 

“I guess we’ll see how well you learned, won’t we. I’m not fighting a giant, I’m fighting someone a head shorter than me,” he said, making an effort to rest his elbow on the top of her head. 

“Hey, hey. Off the hair, it’s not often we have days with braids that aren’t frozen. Let me enjoy this while it lasts.” 

Kal held his hands up in defeat, “Okay, okay, I should have known better. Eira would skin me alive if I messed with her hair. I think Mel’s still plotting murder from the time I got maple candy in her hair, remember when we were younger, and mother had to shear it off up to her chin.”

Viviane started laughing loudly, “By the cauldron, I forgot about that. If I remember correctly though, she got you back. She colored your hair blue with indigo dye.” 

Kal scratched at the back of his neck, “Oh yeah, it was great explaining to father how that occured. They still call me bluebell sometimes, you know.” 

“Bluebell, oddly enough it suits you.” She beamed widely at him. 

“That’s what everyone else says,” Kal muttered under his breath. 

He was happy when they reached the sparring ring to find Eira, Viola, and Melia constantly seated out of the way, visibly tipsy and exchanging various smeared crackers. 

“What took you so long?” Eira yelled across the way. 

“I had to make myself beautiful for you, dear sisters!” Kal called back. He quickly went to retrieve his weapon of choice from the well stocked rack. He had left the Miskunn in his rooms, Kal had no intention of wielding the sword against a friend anytime soon. 

Kal chose carefully from the rack, he took a moment to look back at Viviane’s blade, and attempted to match the length of his sword to hers. She wasn’t using a waster, a wooden practice sword, like many of the knights that Kal fought against in the ring. She trained with steel and she fought today with steel. 

Unsheathing the sword he walked to the ring, where she was standing, looking bored. 

“You always did have to take your time, didn’t you Kallias.” Viviane smirked at him as she unsheathed her blade, the shing ringing through the courtyard. 

“Cauldron, I love that sound,” he said, ignoring her quip. 

He tested the balance in his hand, adjusting to the weight, and looking to her eyes. There were dark circles under her eyes, he couldn’t help but think about the nights she hadn’t slept on her journey to the palace. That wouldn’t help her now, not that he found himself well-rested. 

Kal presented his sword to Viviane, and offered her a quick, dramatic bow. She laughed, baring her teeth at him

Viviane began circling him, throwing out quick jabs, posturing him like a cat fighting to claim territory. 

He parried her moves, waiting her out and testing her patience. If she was as exhausted as he thought, she would lose her temper quickly, allowing him to move in. 

Finally, the moment came, she drove her sword towards his left arm, in a quick motion he parried, surprised at the speed of her sword. He met her move and returned it, their feet entering into a dance so few can follow. Watching them, Melia would later recall, was like watching a snowstorm, beautiful and dangerous. 

They met, each parry followed by a returning blow, dancing to the very edges of the circle. Kal’s breath heaving, and Viviane’s cheeks flushed redder than a bushel of lingonberries.

Viviane’s blade caught his shoulder, a small cut flowing freely on his beige tunic. 

He winced at the bite, but shook it off. Kal had seen worse than this, felt worse than this. 

She was fast on her feet, like a sand serpent flying across the cobblestones in their circle. 

Faster and faster they danced, Kal feared his lungs would give out. Sweat flowed freely from his brow, and the cut on his shoulder had dripped blood down to his hand, he tightened his grip to overcome it. Baring his teeth at her in a grin, he watched as her eyebrows furrowed together. 

That grin was his downfall, quite literally. Viviane had used her compact size against him, fighting closer, too close for him to risk some of his wider ranged attacks. It was almost in slow motion that he watched her throw a trick attack, only to duck down and knock him off his feet. 

Kal found himself staring at a grey sky, head pounding from the beating of his heart and from the crack it had sustained on the stone. 

Viviane stood above him, braid half unwound, small rips painting her tunic. 

“Do you yield?” She heaved, sword so close it was nearing the tip of his nose. 

He pushed himself back from her, looking once again to her face, her sword, and back again. “By the cauldron,” he breathed heavily, “I think I do.” 

She tossed her hair over her shoulder, turning to smile at his sisters and Viola. 

The girls applauded fervently, whooping and hollering at their friends well won success.

Viviane turned and offered Kallias her hand, to help him from the ground.

“You swept my feet out from under me, one minute I thought I had you and the next I was on my rump on the ground.” Kal moved to rub his tender bum, “This is going to have a hell of a bruise tomorrow, you know.”

She smiled back at him, “Oh, don’t I know.” She patted him on the shoulder, still breathing deeply from the exertion. “You should feel proud, I rarely need to knock someone from their feet. You were a fair match.” She ran her fingers back from her forehead, slicking down her hair. 

She led him over to the others, “Now, I think it’s time we have some wine,” Kal watched as she plopped down beside her sister, hugging her close to rub sweat off onto her. 

“Gross, gross, we promised no sweat when we’re dressed nicely,” Viola shrieked at her sister. 

“You see only one of us is dressed well, sweat is still allowed baby sister,” Viv looked at her with adoration. 

“I hate you,” Viola laughed at her, moving to pour herself another glass of champagne. 

“Are you joining us, brother?” Melia said, patting the empty space next to her. “Come , sit by me,” Kal broke out into a grin. It was rare that Melia wanted anything to do with either of her siblings and Kal couldn’t help but bask in it. 

“You fought well, brother,” Eira smiled at him, handing him a glass of the wine and a plate. 

“I did. But I was bested,” he raised his glass to Viviane, “Here’s to old friends, and well matched fights,” Kal said proudly. 

“Here, here!” Viola shouted into the group.

Kal’s heart was so full, and so happy that he stood promptly and flopped into a nearby bank of snow, making an angel and enjoying the coolness on his aching behind. 

Having Viviane back wasn’t so bad after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi Guys, I know this global pandemic is affecting all of us in different ways. For me, it's a killer for my anxiety. That's why I really love writing this, I feel like I can get lost in this corner of Sarah J. Maas' world. I'm not really editing what I'm posting at the moment, not as much as I did the first two, mainly because it's taking a lot of mental effort to keep on like we all have to. So, please pardon mistakes, errors, flubs and the like - I'll go back and edit later when things have calmed down. 
> 
> So, anyway. Here's chapter 3. Kal and Viviane spar. I've never written a scene like this before and it took a firm glass of wine to attempt it. I hope you can see them like I do, or even better, how you see them. 
> 
> I spent a lot of time with the song "Polska from Dorotea" by the Danish String Quartet for this, listen if you want. I think it captured the playful competitive nature that I wanted this chapter to have more than I could ever hope to. 
> 
> Enjoy! See you next week.


	4. A night in and a new friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here we delve a little deeper, learning about Kal's sisters (Melia and Eira) and their recently well met friend.

It didn’t take long for Viviane’s sister to solidify the plans that had been made at breakfast. They would clean up, and make their way to Melia and Eira’s rooms within the hour.   
Viviane found herself in awe of how well this afternoon had gone. Kal was good, he was really good she thought fondly of her rediscovered friend. After seeing him fight she didn’t feel like he was the little boy she’d skated with any longer, he seemed somehow more strange, like in the years they’d been apart he’d grown into an entirely different person. He had grown into a different person, she supposed. When he’d had a sword in his hand she could feel the confidence and the competence radiating off of him. For the first time she felt she had a glimpse of what he would be like as a high lord.   
Viviane relished the short shower she took, wiping the sweat, the blood (from a small knick on her hip) and the wine (from a tipsy spill) off of her. The hall’s fae had returned, and replenished the bathroom with different scented soaps so she chose the most decadent scent she could find and enjoyed the smell of honeyed caramel and the oils that satiated her skin's thirst. As she combed out her wet hair, she noticed the frost curling in from the edges of the mirror, seeping in as if to say hello. It was always unruly in the palace, especially around the solstice as the final days grew shorter.   
Wrapped in her towel, Viv wandered around the room stopping to graze at the treats that had been left out at the desk, wondering what she should wear to a sleepover with princesses. This wasn’t the first time they’d done this of course, when they were younger, quite often they would organically make their way to one another’s rooms, and curl up with books or paints or dolls on a rug. But this, like every experience in the hall now felt foreign. She’d been away too long, and this place no longer belonged to her. Though she knew the sisters were her friends, she no longer knew her role in their group, and that made her hesitant to step out of her bounds.   
Viviane pulled on a pair of soft, wide legged pants, with patterns of silver snowflakes trimming the edges, a soft cream sweater, and her favorite robe. She took her time choosing a pair of thick, fur trimmed socks, and decided to forgo shoes as she looked at the clock on the mantel. It was time to meet her friends.   
Viviane found herself rushing down the hall, excitement filling her chest as she came to Eira’s door. There were several small scratches along the bottom that they’d made together kicking the door open with their ice skates on years ago.   
Knocking loudly, Viviane smiled as Mel opened the door.   
“Come in, come in! Let me get you some wine,” Melia’s cheeks were flushed as she grabbed Viv’s hand and sped across the room, it was clear she’d indulged in a drink or two.   
Melia poured a goblet nearly to the brim, sloshing some on the floor (and on Viv’s feet) as she pushed the glass into Viviane’s hand.  
The room was warm and smelled like gingerbread, but not the gingerbread tack that they passed around at Solstice back home. It smelled spicy, and like citrus. Viviane let herself fall into the comfort as she took in the sight of the room.   
Eira’s room was painted a honeyed pastel yellow, and her bed was neatly tucked across the room with lace trimmed quits and warm blankets in inviting shades of frost and blue. The whole room had a glow that reminded her of a painting that hung in the palace’s gallery all those years ago. It was ancient, and celebrated. It was the dawn’s first peak over the border mountains, and it just screamed light. You could feel the sun’s rays cutting through the frigid landscape. It looked like hope.   
“Took you long enough,” Viola called to her, breaking the spell she’d put herself under.   
“Oh, I’m sorry I did some work this afternoon, dear. I could have skipped my shower and stank up Eira’s lovely room.” She flopped at the foot of the settee and noticed for the first time a new female sitting across from her on a plush chair, with her feet tucked beneath her.   
Viviane felt the female’s eyes look at her from tip to toe, and she felt oddly vulnerable under the intensity of her dark eyed gaze.   
Eira, sensing a shift in the room’s mood sat her glass of wine down on a side table, and pulled herself up into a sitting position.   
“Viviane, this is Mor. She’s a friend of Melia’s and mine, and she’s come to celebrate the winter holidays with us. Mor, this is a dear old friend of ours, and Viola’s sister.” Viviane noted that Eira looked rather content with her introduction, proud of her ladylike skills, and it took all Viv had in her not to poke fun.   
Viviane scooted across the hearth to Mor’s seat and offered her hand. “It’s nice to meet you, I didn’t know you’d be joining us tonight.”   
Mor’s lips curled into a friendly sort of smile. “I decided to surprise our friends, and they were gracious enough to host me. My family believes me to be traveling to the Autumn court for their smaller celebration, but I made the executive decision that I’d rather spend it among friends than foes,” she swirled her wine in the glass, and her eyes fell to where Eira and Viola were deep in conversation.   
“We met Mor on a diplomatic trip to the Autumn court, and we came to the mutual decision that we needed to band together to get through the dreadfully dry debacles that their High Lord requires of his courtesans,” Eira laughed.  
Viviane’s interest piqued at that, “Where are you from?” Mor didn’t have the fox-like look that so often Autumn courtiers had.   
“Oh,” she laughed, it sounded like small bells ringing, “I’m from here and there really. If you’re asking where my lineage is from, my family’s main residence is Hewn City.”  
Viviane looked to Viola, they were both noticeably confused.  
“It’s the Court of Nightmares, or that’s the name in many circles.” She pulled a lock of golden hair across her shoulder, and rolled it between her fingers,   
“How interesting,” Viviane said cautiously, “I’ve never had the honor of visiting the Night Court.” She turned her attention behind her as Melia loudly dropped a bottle of wine into the bin, cursing loudly when it made a clamor as it hit other bottles that had already been empty.   
“Oopsie!” She called out over her shoulder, cheeks flaming red.  
“We should fix that,” Mor smiled softly at her.   
Viviane turned her attention to Melia, “Do you need any help over there?” she called out.   
“Could you help me grab the snacks?”  
“Snacks?” Viola’s head whipped in Mel’s direction, “I didn’t think there’d be snacks after such a lavish picnic this afternoon.”   
“And why not?” Eira asked, tilting her head down to look at Viola. “It’s solstice, or nearly. We’re going to have two weeks of feasts, and parties, and performances. Why not start enjoying it all tonight.”   
Viv watched as Viola’s cheeks quickly flushed, “I guess you’re right, I just don’t think Viviane and I are used to all of this luxurious food all the time.” She began braiding the ends of her hair.   
“Oh,” Eira’s face fell for a flicker, before returning to her standard radiant smile. “Well, while you’re visiting, we should try everything we possibly can.”  
“Ooh, good idea,” Melia said, handing the platter of soft gingerbread to Viv (that’s where the smell had come from), and took bowls of popcorn and cranberries in her own hands. “What would you all like to try? I know you haven’t been home like this for years, and solstice food is the best to catch up on.”  
“Well,” Viola said, “the hand pies this morning were a great place to start,” she looked over her shoulder to Eira, “and I’m loving all of the wine we’re tasting.”  
“Sweets, check,” Melia giggles, “what else? Viviane?”  
“There’s one thing I’ve been missing in the years since we’ve spent solstice here,” she took a breath and tried to remember, “They were the solstice dinner dessert for the children, the spicy cookies?” She sat the tray of gingerbread on the floor near the fireplace, and placed herself in front of it.   
“Spicy cookies? You don’t mean spiced cookies? Do you,” Eira sat up once more, intrigued.   
“No, no,” Melia said, taking the floor beside Mor’s chair. “I remember them, we haven’t had them in years,” she paused, placing two fingers to her lips then snapping as she came to her realization, “We haven’t had them since Mother replaced our head pâtissier.”  
“I have no idea what you’re going on about? Mother replacing whom?” Eira shook her head and downed her glass. “Who’s to say, I remember nothing, we know this.” Eira’s eyes sparkled from the wine. Viviane watched as she turned and winked at Viola, with all the subtlety of a pack of trampling reindeer.   
Mor had been watching the scene play out with quaint amusement on her face. Viviane got the feeling she was surveying the room trying to get a feel. She is a well guarded Female, Viv thought. Perhaps all females from the Night Court are like this she thought, though she realized she had no other experiences with the Night Court to go off of. Mor was beautiful, and perfectly polite, Viviane decided she was being ridiculous taking an abundance of caution with her.   
Viv cleared her throat, “So, uh, Mor?”  
“Yes?” She looked over curiously, the firelight giving her an almost ethereal glow.   
“How does the Night Court celebrate the Winter Solstice? I know the other seasonal courts have far grander parties for their holidays, but I’ve always been curious about your court, and Dawn and Day court too I suppose-” she was rambling, reel it in Viv, “so, do you do anything special?”  
“Oh, well, it’s nothing so grand as how we celebrate our holidays,” she’s still guarded, thought Viviane, “but, my friends and I have been known to open a bottle of wine or two… or ten, if the mood strikes us. And we exchange gifts.”   
“The best parts of the solstice, then,” Eira piped in. “Since I’ve grown I can best appreciate the solstice with a few glasses of wine.”  
Melia nodded in aggressive agreement.  
“Did your family not permit you to have wine?” Mor questioned, curiosity falling across her face.   
“It was limited while we were young. Spiced wine, of course, but mother and father didn’t want any of us out of sorts and where we shouldn’t be. There are certain parts of the ritual that don’t call for drunken children running around,” Melia explained, her voice taking on a diplomatic tone.   
“Ah, tucked away. I can understand that,” Mor’s face held a soft smile, a hint of bitterness twinged her eyes.   
After a beat of silence Viola cleared her throat, “I brought my lyre, I thought we might enjoy some music this evening,” she trailed off, her face flushing as she looked to Eira for approval.   
“I think that’s a darling idea,” Eira responded back to her. “Mel, would you grab a deck of cards, I think it’s time for our night to finally begin.”   
“Shall we continue with wine, or graduate to more dangerous libations,” Mor asked, athe corners of her mouth ticking upward.   
“That all depends,” Viv said, all eyes turning to her, “how early are we expected to be up tomorrow?”   
Eira grinned from ear to ear, “Luckily, we have nowhere to be until the evening. Shall I debut some of our finest liquor, esteemed colleagues?” she asked, putting on a dramatically haughty voice.  
“Oh yes, indeed,” Mor sniffed back at her in the same dramatic tone, “I think we should indeed,” she stood up and moved to Eira’s chest of drawers, and from the back pulled a comically large jug of a suspiciously clear liquid.   
“Eira, how naughty!” Melia cheered in delight as she walked back in, deck of cards in hand.  
“I’m entirely unsure of what the voices are, but I’m very, and I mean very intrigued by the prospect of drinking something a little more dramatic. It’ll help us put Viola’s lyre skills to use,” Viv beamed at her sister, who’d collected her instrument and placed it in her lap, watching the events of the room transpire.   
“Too kind you are, dear Viviane. Shall I play something the courtiers would just die for?” She struck up the nastiest camp song she knew, and she and Viviane began belting the soldiers lyrics to their stunned companions.   
Melia’s mouth had dropped into an oh. “Viviane, Viola,” she gasped, “Could you teach me?”   
Eira howled with delight, as Mor handed out smaller classes of the clear liquid.   
“I’ll teach you,” Viola said, “only if you promise never to tell your mother where you heard it from.”   
“I think we can make that deal, can’t we Mels,” Eira giggled.   
“Oh Gods, you have to teach me too. I need something new to piss off my father,” Mor had a wicked grin slapped across her face, and it made Viviane like her immensely.   
She took her drink and thought she would die from the burn, and then from the taste. “By the cauldron, Eira. Where did you find this?”  
“A lady never tells her secret. Mor, pour us all another,” she leapt onto the settee, the wide pants of her olive green pajamas wrinkled and crept too far up her knees, mismatched socks adorned her feet. “I have a toast, everyone, a toast. Shh, shh, shhh…” she whispered so loud it felt to Viviane’s ears like a shout.   
“Well, get on with it Eira, we haven’t all night,” Mor laughed as she filled the final glass.   
“I’m getting to it, I’m getting to it, calm yourselves,” she took perhaps the deepest breath Viviane had ever seen, and rolled back her shoulders, careful not to spill any of the liquid fire that filled her cup. “I have a toast, to friends old and friends new. I have a feeling we’re all going to be together for a very long time.”   
Melia called out, “Here, here!” as the rest cried out with resolute cheers.   
Viviane didn’t know if it was the alcohol, or the exhaustion, or the women around her, but she suddenly felt like she knew her role here again, and couldn’t help but be grateful for the others in their roles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is fluff. This is obviously fluff. But there needs to be a bit of fluff to set up a bit of angst, doesn't there? 
> 
> Mor's here! Love Mor, she's a fabulous character, though younger in this series than in ACOTAR. 
> 
> Disclaimer: It's been a hot sec since I've re-read ACOTAR, so I've tried my best to capture Mor and I see her and as I've remembered her, but feel free to point out anything you see that's missing or doesn't fit. I enjoy the feedback. 
> 
> Happy plague, all. Stay safe, stay home, flatten the curve. We're all in this together <3


	5. Talvimarkkinat

Viviane woke up on Eira’s floor the next morning with a pounding headache, and lipstick drawn all over her forehead. In the wee hours of the morning, they’d bonded by finding the ugliest colors they could in Melia’s collection, and doing interpretive drawings on one another's foreheads in tandem. At the time it had seemed like a perfectly reasonable idea, but now Viviane knew she had a green swamp creature drawn above her forehead, and that just wouldn’t do.   
Looking around the room, no one else was awake either, and it didn’t look like they would be for some time. Judging by the clock on the wall they’d all missed breakfast and lunch, but the knot in her stomach made Viviane thankful she didn’t have to make another royal brunch appearance.   
With a yawn and a stretch, Viv pulled herself up off the floor and began the trek back to her room. The floor felt leagues colder than it had the night before, when she’d drunk herself a coat. Now she was left wondering what had happened to her socks, and how she’d ever get rid of her headache.  
Sighing, she quickly padded through the halls, avoiding as many gazes as she could, wishing desperately she had a hat, or even bangs, to cover the mess on her head.   
Viv was in the home stretch, feet slapping stone as she hurried, her door in sight, if I can just take a shower, everything will feel better she told herself. Viv toed a strange line, knowing that her training was physical and dirty and bloody, and loving the feel of returning from a raid or a skirmish in one piece, but looking like a warrior coated in the soot and ice of the mountains, yet still hating the feel of the shit on her skin. She needed to be clean. She liked to be clean she corrected herself.   
“Viv! How was your night with my sisters?” Viviane looked up to see Kallias striding down the hall, looking fresh and confident from a full nights sleep.   
She stopped on a pin, and reached her hand to her forehead.   
“Hi, um, it was good I guess. It was fun!” Act normal, she chided, act normal.   
“Oh, I can see. It looks as if you’ve got a little something on your forehead,” his eyes twinkled gayly.   
“You noticed that, did you?” She could feel the heat rushing to her cheeks.   
“It’s hard to miss. Green’s your color.” He was holding back laughter, she could tell. Kal had a terrible poker face, he was an open book - or at least he had been to her once upon a time.   
Viviane threw her head back with a sigh, “Gods, how bad is it? I got a glimpse in the mirror.”  
“I wouldn’t say it’s bad, rather that it’s an interesting artistic choice.”   
“Good, good,” she nodded. “We were striving to break boundaries with body art. It was obviously the intention of the party.”  
“It was a party, was it? Shame, Eira’s liquor supply must be running low.”  
Viviane looked at him, surprise crossing her face. “You know about her stash?”   
“Know about it? We sneak out to buy more from the markets nearly monthly. Father can’t stand the stuff, so we could never have it ordered here.”  
“So the High Lord praises wine, and despises liquor?” Viviane was mentally grasping at straws trying to find the logic of this.  
“Not exactly,” Kallias said, moving to the wall across from her room to lean. “He likes the wines because they’re ‘Well made’ and ‘civilized’ and the liquor makes the court a bit too lively for his taste I think.”   
“Civilized… He’s not seen what wine can do to males at the border. It knocks them down faster than the pommel of a sword.”  
“Really now, I’d like to see that.” He sniffed, “Well, I suppose I should explain why I’m here.”   
“Oh no, take your time. I love every servant in the Winter Court seeing my green forehead. My mother will move it even more.”   
He chuckled quickly, almost nervously. “Um, well, I was wondering if you’d like to take a trip to the Talvimarkkinat. Today’s beautiful for it. The sky’s clear, and we might be able to find a cure for your hangover.”   
“The Winter Market? I haven’t been in years,” she sucked in a breath, “but would that be appropriate to go alone?” The question slipped out of her mouth before she could think, and she felt immensely foolish. She wasn’t some courtly female here to woo a prince, she was a family friend returning after a long absence. Know your place, Viviane, she chided.   
“If we can spar, I think we can go for a walk through the city. But if you’re worried about upsetting someone, I can always go rouse one of my sisters, or even mother?” His face had clouded from light and twinkly to nervous once more.   
“No, you’re right. If we can fight each other we should be able to go for a walk.”  
“Okay, good.” He nodded curtly at her, folding his hands one over the other.   
“When did you want to go? I obviously have to freshen up before going anywhere.” Viv gestured to her forehead, and the mess of tangles and wisps that had escaped her braids.   
“I was thinking we could leave when you were ready, get lunch at the market?”   
“Give me fifteen minutes, and I’ll be ready.”   
“Okay, should I send for something for your headache?”   
“That would be the kindest thing that has ever been done for me. Please, send for something, and make sure it’s a lot of it.” Viviane turned the knob of her door, and flew in before he could ask anymore helpful questions.   
Fifteen minutes, fifteen minutes she chanted to herself. Viviane wretched the night clothes off faster than she’d thought possible. They fell in a pool around her ankles, and she took a few precious seconds to roll out her shoulders and look longingly at her sword, laid out and waiting at a table. It was such a stark contrast to the lightness of the room. It was painted to look almost as if you were in a cloud, breathing in the morning air, she thought.   
Propelling herself into action she had to repeat to herself, do not throw up, as she grabbed a glass from the sink and filled it with cool water. She drank deeply, savoring the change in her tongue’s texture from cotton to regular. It made her question, what is the normal feeling of a tongue in a normal mouth. She brushed her teeth aggressively, enjoying the mint of the cleaning tablet in her mouth.   
Lavender soap and a hard scrub later she found her forehead swamp creature free, but very red, and her hair completely sopping wet. Nothing to be done about that, she mused as she fluttered through her room trying to find something appropriate for the Talvimarkkinat. It was a lovely place, and it made her want to look lovely.   
Though Viviane hadn’t owned fancy dresses in quite some time, her mother still had more casual dresses made up for them at the border. To remind them how lovely they were, and how lovely they’d stayed even in a colourless landscape, she always said.   
Viviane pulled one of those out, a lilac kirtle under an almost sinfully deep purple kirtle, with long sleeves to cover down to her wrist. Frostbite wouldn’t do on the border, nor would it do in the Talvimarkkinat.   
Viviane pulled her gray boots on under the dress, no one would see them, and grabbed her cloak. Lovely the dress was, and lovely she felt. Viv looked at the clock, 19 minutes. She’d been in her room too long, but the clock be damned she thought.   
One final smooth over in the mirror, and she walked steadily to the door.   
Kallias was still standing against the wall, but he was holding a small bottle with a violently red liquid inside.   
“You took your time, didn’t you?”  
“Don’t be smart, it took me longer than I thought to get the lipstick off. Don’t look too close or there might still be some tint there. I look like a forest fae,” she chuckled.   
He leaned in to closely inspect her forehead, “It seems like it’s less of a green and more of a sickly tint. A great improvement,” She shoved him, “Anyhow it seems like I’ve been out here for centuries.”   
“You have been dear. I had a curse put on you, each minute that passes is an eternity. You’ve got nothing but lost time,” she quipped.   
His face fell, shame replacing smile.   
“Oh no Kal, I didn’t mean it like that. I was only teasing.” Viviane took a breath, “Anyhow, what's that?” she nodded at the red bottle.   
“Well, Eira swears by it. I’m not entirely sure what’s in it, but from what I can tell there’s a dash of enchantment, some currant, whiskey, and a splash of pain killer. I’ve never personally been brave enough to try it, but it seems like the kind of thing you’d need after a night of drawing on your forehead with makeup.”  
Viv grimaced, “Alright I’ll try it.” Kal handed the bottle over.   
“One tip, don’t smell it before you drink it.”   
“By the Cauldron, why would you say that, now I have to sniff it. What if you’re poisoning me?”  
“I guess you’re going to have to try it and see,” he shrugged, smiling at her with not a hint of pity in his eyes.   
“Bottoms up,” she sighed, pinching her nose and downing it like a shot. It was vile, worse than vile. It tasted neither like whiskey, or currant, or any pain killer she’d ever known. It was as bitter as biting down on raw chicory.  
“Blegh! Blegh! Gods, that is poison. I’ve been betrayed,” she said, clutching her stomach, trying to keep it from heaving.   
Kal slapped her on the back, “You took that like a champion, I’ve never seen Eira drink that as well.” He offered her his arm, “Now come on, let's get some food in you. Food makes everything better.”   
He led her down the hall, and the stairs, all the way to a side entrance they’d used as children.   
“You don’t use the front door now?”  
“Not when I can help it, too many people ask where I’m going. If I wanted them to know, I’d send out a memorandum announcing it,” he’d stiffened at the mention of the front door.   
Viviane wrinkled her brow, “Oh, that’s good. I’ve always thought the iron gates were a little too creepy for a court this wonderful.”  
“The gates are all for show,” he sighed, “to scare away attackers, to scare anyone from coming in, and to scare us from leaving.”   
“Keeping people out and keeping people in, it’s a big job they have,” they were out of the castle now, and making their way down winding cobblestone streets. The Hall of Crystals was nestled into a hillside, and the town had blossomed below it with narrow streets and encompassing squares. Banners and streamers were wound across the fronts of houses, with small lights made to look like dripping icicles touching each door frame, mingling among the real ice crystals.   
Viviane looked around in awe, she’d kept her childhood memories of the Talvimarkkinat close to heart, thinking of them often when life would get mundane, or when she felt trapped. But nothing had prepared her to see it again in the fresh light of her adulthood. There were details she had missed, how each strand of lights crossed the street high above their heads, ready to light up at sunset.   
“It never is any less beautiful to look at,” he said, watching her tilt her head to the sky, enjoying the clear, cold sunshine.   
“I tried so hard to keep this in my memory, but it’s better than I think I could ever remember.”   
“Solstice is when we shine. It can be exhausting to live in a forever cold climate, and I know the other courts pity us, but we’ve adapted. I remember father saying that if our kind could adapt to eternal winter, we could survive anything.” Kal glanced around, taking in his Court, and their people.   
“I think your father is right. Morrigan told us last night she worried the first time she met your sisters that they would be terribly cold, and it’s strange to think that that’s the common perception of Winter. Of course we could leave, but,” she paused, finding her words cumbersome to apply to her lips, “I think there’s something wonderful in surviving deliberately. Any oaf or buffon could survive in the Autumn Court’s eternal harvest, or enjoy an eternal Spring awakening, but we’re a special lot.” Viviane turned to Kal and watched as he swallowed hard.   
“Now if you could just explain that to the other courts’ attaches then we would be diplomatically better off. They keep clutching for power here because they think we’re too ignorant to leave. Why would we leave the place we were born to thrive in?”  
Viviane rolled her eyes, “I’d heard some of these arguments, but it seems ridiculous that people believe them,”   
Kal nodded solemnly. “Anyhow, we should probably talk less about diplomacy, and more about what we’re going to eat. That was always your favorite part, wasn’t it?”   
“Oh absolutely, the pastries, and trying to sneak spiced wine when we were too young to taste. I think the thrill was my favorite part, and,” she said, wagging a finger at him, “The beads. Do you remember, those glacial glass beads that mother would send us down here to buy for them to wear to the feasts and balls.”   
“I don’t think I’ve thought of those in years. They’re always on the girls’ dresses, but I didn’t remember them sending us down.” He laughed, and stopped suddenly, smelling the air.   
“Kallias, what are you doing? Are you a dog? Are you about to howl at the moon like a courtier of Night?”  
He gave her a wicked smile, “How are you feeling?”   
She took a moment to reflect, surprised that she wasn’t keeled over from the abundance of booze, or from the lack of sleep. “Surprisingly okay? Why do you ask now?”  
“Well, because I needed to know if we needed to pick a food that would go gentle on your stomach, or whether you wanted to try something with a little more punch.”  
“A little more punch,” she said sternly to him. “I am not a meat and potatoes kind of girl, I’m tired of bland.”   
“That’s what I was hoping you’d say,” he laughed, and for a second all she could see was the sunlight glittering through his hair like a cut diamond under light. “I told you I wasn’t poisoning you, come on!”   
He dragged her past the town square, and off towards a stall that had meat roasting over an open fire.  
“It smells so good, by the Cauldron, how can any place smell this wonderful?”   
“I sometimes pity anyone who does not have a chance to celebrate solstice here. I’m biased, and it’s home, but it’s such a special home. I cannot imagine a place more perfect in all the realms.” He looked wistful, Viv noted, as he gazed around.   
The square was crowded with vendors, and families. There were even a few young High Fae children playing. It was hard to believe that that had once been her and Kallias in the square.   
He held two fingers up, and exchanged the coins to the vendor. They were handed sandwiches in wax paper as their reward. Heavy meat on crusty bread, the smell was nearly sinful, and the first bite left Viviane thinking she could never taste anything so joyful again.   
It was the contrast of the hot food hitting her stomach that made her realize she was cold, very cold. She’d forgotten her gloves, and her hair still held moisture, though it had long since frozen into light waves.   
“Kallias, I think many would think a better place to be one that is warmer than here, or less icy, perhaps,” Viviane elbowed him gently in the side, enjoying breaking him from his spell of devouring his food.   
“Maybe so, but they’d be wrong. Is there anything more satisfying than a cold market? Or hot wine for frozen hands? And what is more comforting than freshly fallen snow?” He said gesturing up towards the clouds that had rolled in and begun to drop powder on their noses.  
“See, I would agree with you if we had a hot wine in our hands. But sadly I am gloveless, wineless, and a little too cold for my own good.”  
“I should have noticed, your hands look like ice!” He sat his food down on the standing table they’d congregated at, and wiped the grease from his fingertips onto his sweater, an action that vividly reminded her that he was still a silly Male.   
Her thoughts were abruptly cut off when he grabbed her hand and rubbed it between his own, one then the other. She watched in awe as her future high lord tried his damndest to warm her.   
“I think I might have a pair of gloves,” he fished in his overcoat clumsily, resembling once more the child she’d known all those years ago. He was still kind, she noted, and still concerned.   
“Aha!” He cried, pulling a tattered brown pair of gloves out of an inner pocket. “Here, put these on, next we’ll have to find hot wine to warm you up.” He smiled, and took a final bite of his sandwich before tossing his trash and hers away.   
She slipped the gloves on, watching him cautiously. The moment had felt odd, and she couldn’t seem to catch her breath. It was taking a focused effort not to breathe too loudly, and her hands felt like they were on fire.   
The gloves were too big, but once they were on she flashed a smile at him nonetheless. “To the wine?” She asked, when she realized he was waiting for her to continue on.   
“To the wine!” he mockingly marched forward into the snow flurries, grabbing her now gloved hand and tugging her along.   
They moved through the crowds quickly and clumsily, like children, winding their own paths through strangers, and stopping to look at windows displaying different jewels, and bags, and paintings, looking for last minute presents.   
“The snow makes it all the more beautiful, doesn’t it?” He turned to look at her at they pulled off onto a side street, less bedecked with solstice decor, but still looking divinely frosty.   
Viviane paused for a moment, “This snow feels different, it’s lighter and more purposeful, but sometimes, at the border, it feels like the snow is never going to end, like you might drown in the drifts, or get lost in the wind. There is a certain danger that comes with our winter, and with our lands that those in the other courts don’t recognize.” There was a loneliness too. Her family was near the border of Autumn, and it’s not to say that they are cruel folk, but she didn’t trust them. Where the land changed sharply from her Winter Court to theirs, there were trees of orange, and red, and yellow, and what felt like eyes of the same colors watching always. Viviane had hoped that her fur kept those eyes from seeing her discomfort in recognizing them.   
“I think I should like to see the border someday, or at least where you are. Do you like it there?” Kal said, caution in his tone.   
They turned down another street where bows of green and red hung from the windowsills.  
She smiled, “I like the people, and I like how there is a place for my energy. I think if I had to live trapped in walls embroidering all day I would go mad. I like that I am doing something that feels worthwhile, and I like that I am protecting my home. There are bad parts, but I can’t imagine my life without living with them.” Viviane paused, and looked at Kallias, “I don’t think I’ve spoken about the border like this to anyone, ever. My father's men and kin already know what it is like to live among our roughest ice and storms, so much that I think they forget there are other ways to live.”  
“I am glad you aren’t so unhappy there. You know my mother would accept you here, don’t you? If you were ever too unhappy.” She could heat the soft satisfying thud of their boots on the stone.  
Viviane couldn’t help but laugh, “If I were here, I think I wouldn’t know what to do with myself. There are different expectations for how I would act and I don’t know that I’m ready to give up the freedom of dressing how I please, and fighting as I please, and training as I please.”  
“I think the Winter Court could use some of your changes.” He chuckled, his face tilting towards the stones beneath their feet, “I understand feeling trapped though,” Kal sighed. “It feels like everyone is watching my every move, to see if I will be weaker than my father, if I will be a poor leader, if I am good enough to be High Lord someday. It’s almost like I’ve failed before I’ve even tried in many of my father’s advisor’s eyes.”  
“I think you’re going to do well for us all Kal,” Viviane said softly. “I mean, look at us, we haven’t seen each other in years and years and we’re speaking as if we’ve only been separated for an hour. That’s as diplomatic as I could imagine any High Lord.”  
Kal smiled softly at her and stopped in front of an old wooden vendor’s stall, with an elderly low fae manning a cauldron of hot wine. He turned his attention from her and pivotted towards the stall, “Hello, Ignea,” Kal smiled at her, “Good Solstice to you, friend.”  
“And to you, Kallias,” the old female croaked back. Viviane watched with interest, how rare it was to hear a low fae call a high fae by name, especially the son of the High Lord. Viviane didn’t know the female, she must have been a friend made in the years since Viv had been gone.  
“Two cups of your finest wine, dear Ignea, and best not underfill, we’re old friends reacquainting.” He said as regally as he could muster. Kal smiled even more broadly as he gestured to her.   
“Viviane I take it?” The female croaked. She must be ancient.   
“Yes, and you are Ignea?”   
“Mm, yes, or at least I’ve always thought so. Be careful with the wine, it’s stronger than many expect. There’s a drop of truth in every cup.” Ignea winked at Viviane, and went back to stirring the cauldron.   
Kal left several gold pieces on the edge of her counter and took the mugs of wine, handing her one. “Thank you!” He called behind them as they began to move back through the backstreets, towards the way they had come.   
“Now, Ignea here likes to spike her wine with something a little special, so be careful, it has a bite. But it gets me through the festivities every year. And she spices it unlike any other. Take a sip,” he said as they began to move away from the stall.  
“Spikes it with what exactly?” Viviane raised her eyebrows at him.   
“Well, I don’t know exactly, but I think it’s one of the hard spirits of the human world. I think the female has a bit of magic in her to make this stuff as divine as it is.”  
“You need to know, I’m trusting you when I drink this strange wine, if I’m poisoned by it there will be hell to pay Kallias,” she found herself smirking at him.   
“You keep thinking I’m going to poison you, but I promise, I haven’t the courage to poison a treasured guest and ruin solstice for us all. Viviane, if you are poisoned then I am poisoned as well, and there will be hell to pay for everyone,” Kal chuckled at her.   
She scowled at his logic and took her first sip, and beyond the sweetness of the wine there was a heat that came from the liquor, and the warmth spread over her tongue like a blanket, enveloping her in citrus and cinnamon, and ginger. She had never tasted winter wine so deep and balanced. It was a symphony on her tongue.  
“I see why hers is your favorite wine. It tastes like a spell has been cast on it.”  
“I’m glad you like it.”   
The clock tower chimed as they reached the market square once more, the sun was setting early this evening, and the square was abuzz with families gathered around a stage.  
“We should head back,” Kal said softly to her, “We’ll have to dress for dinner, there’s charades after, don’t forget.”  
“Charades?” She asked incredulously.   
“Charades,” he nodded grimly, “they organized it at breakfast this morning, I should have mentioned it earlier.  
“We’re just going to have to put on brave faces. I hope you like losing, Kallias,” she laughed at him.   
“If it’s to you Viviane, I think I should get used to losing often and graciously,” he elbowed her, but the comment left an aftertaste.   
“Only in swords and charades, other than that, we might be well matched.”   
“I could definitely out embroider you,” he said, grunting as she elbowed him in the ribs.   
He offered her his arm, “Hmm,” she muttered, “I could outstich you in field wounds,” she beamed proudly at him.  
“You’ve got me there… hmm, I can out mull wine.”  
“We shall see about that,” Viviane laughed, as they continued back to the Hall of Crystals. She had her friend back, she thought as they traded off jobs they could best the other at. She finally, finally had her friend back. This is my place, she thought at last.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The wildest thing about this global pandemic for me is realizing that things will someday go back to normal, and not being weirded out by the fact that our dearest Kal and Viv are in a marche de noel together surrounded by hundreds of people. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy. I'm losing track of days of the week, so I'm updating when I have the mental energy to write. 
> 
> Stay safe, stay healthy at home, stay sane. 
> 
> All my love.


	6. Letters

Kal dropped Viviane off at her door, watching as it closed behind her. This felt like the first day in a thousand when he’d been burden-free, happy. He smiled, and started his stroll back to dress for dinner. He had a friend again, he wasn’t alone. The thought sunk its teeth into him, bringing him to a complete stop. An emptiness had been filled today that he hadn’t even known was there. Loneliness had always crept behind him softly, but rarely had it reared its ugly head to sink talons into him. He mostly ignored that beast, in light of more pressing troubles. But today he hadn’t felt lonely. 

He hadn’t felt this unburdened since he was a child. 

Kal inhaled sharply. She’s going home in a few days. Their friendship had been precious the first time around, innocently tangled in childhood bliss. Now, he had tainted it with his ignorance and silence. Kal had long ago come to terms with the fact that he was never going to see Viviane again. He’d built his life around that, moving forward and trying to accept his decisions to cut her out. His punishment to her leaving him, he now realized. This time had to be different, he thought to his tattooed promise carved into his skin. 

This second chance at friendship. 

This time would be different. 

He started towards his rooms at a stalking pace. His vision was sharply focused forward, paying no attention to the kith and kin he passed as he flew forward. Once he was safely in his rooms he could think. He could plan how to be a better friend this time around. He could make it up to her. 

Kal opened his door quickly, and swiftly closed it behind him. Leaning against the door frame to gather himself. He put a hand against his pounding heart and felt the low throbbing. A drop of truth in every cup, he remembered. Maybe this was his truth, he thought as he felt the wine sloshing in his belly. 

Kal moved, pacing around the room, looking for inspiration. 

The truth was he’d missed Viviane, and hated that she hadn’t wanted to stay here with him, and continue growing up together. Kal covered his face with his hand, he’d punished her for leaving when she’d had no choice in the matter. Like a damn fool. 

She’d be in her new home, only her family to keep her comfort, and he had ignored her letters because she was gone, and because it was too much to think of her. He wanted her to be miserable, and to miss him, and to ask to come back to court. How selfish he’d been, wanting her to leave her family to come be his companion once more. How incredibly selfish. 

Kal sank with a thud into the chair at his writing desk. 

This time would be different. Kal pulled out a piece of his stationary, and a pen. He sat there, staring at it, waiting for the right words to appear, waiting for inspiration, maybe for divine intervention. The paper stayed blank. 

He tossed the pen down, and moved to pour a glass of whiskey. What could he say to make up for his foolish behavior. Kal didn’t yet know, but he knew he had to say something. He wanted Viviane to be in his life, he didn’t want to break his promise, and he didn’t want to disappoint her again. Ever again if he could help it. Kal felt he owed it to her, not just because of the friendship they’d had and the friendship he wanted, but because Viviane had been instrumental in opening him up to the world.

When they were younger, Viviane had put the wind in his sails, she had taken a timid boy and yanked him into the sunshine. They’d spent their days skating, sledding, riding horseback when they were older. Once they’d climbed a tree and managed to entirely trap themselves until the small hours of the morning. When the guard had found them, his father and mother had been furious, but they shrugged off the chores and the grounding and continued on with their life. It had been like living in another world, one where there was adventure, and kindness, and no fear. Absolutely no fear. 

Working his way through the memories, it made Kal question how he’d ever been stupid enough to stop writing in the first place. When she’d left the castle had been quiet for a month. The guards that once looked at him with great caution as he and Viviane had romped and roamed wherever their hearts desired had turned to looking at him with pity as he wandered, their world had broken.

Today, he hoped, had been the first of many. Kal realized he needed to steel himself against her leaving again soon, Solstice festivities only lasted a few more days. She was going to leave again, and she was going to go home. And that was okay, because Kal knew not to make the same mistake twice. He would write to her, everyday if he needed to, to prove that he was serious about their friendship, and work to reclaim or rekindle their friendship. Hell, he’d just try to be a good friend. Like she had always been for him. 

Kal once again sat at his writing desk, and toyed with his pen. 

Dear Viviane,   
Our time here has been far too short, but I know I’ll cherish this solstice above all others. Your return, and your friendship are more dear to me than I can say. 

I’m struggling to find the words to tell you what it means that you saw through my foolish mistake, and are letting me try to be the friend to you that you’ve always been to me. I’m sorry and I think I’ll always be sorry that I was cruel to you. All of the happiest memories I have are with you, and I thought for the longest time that I craved to be a child again, to feel the sort of joy I felt. Now I’m realizing that the source of my joy was from our friendship. 

I will forever be grateful to you for sending me that invitation to the globe, and I will forever be grateful to you for reviving what I thought was lost forever. 

I’ll never leave you in the dark again. I promise now and forever to try to live up to the kind of friend you deserve. I would trade anything to get back the years that I have wasted. 

I hope that you will let me come and visit the borders. I would love to see your home now too, since you know mine once more. I want to spar, and see the mountains, and see you in your home. 

Thank you Viviane, for giving me a chance. Thank you for everything. Here’s to a long, long friendship. You are forever welcome with me, you forever are a priority to me, you are forever a friend of mine.   
Yours,  
Kallias

Kallias sat back with a huff. That was the beginning. That was as much as he could give now. He glanced at the clock and cursed. He was late for dinner, but mother would understand. He hoped that Viviane would accept this as the first real step back into their friendship. 

Kal rubbed his eyes, and blew on the ink to dry it. He pulled a letter out of a basket on his desk and folded the paper up once he was confident the ink would not smudge. He pulled out a small box with colored waxes and chose a dark pine green to melt for the seal. His mother had once explained to him the importance and nuance of the colored wax seal. When she was a girl, using the wrong colored seal could create court conflict that lasted a century (in fact his aunt had permanently pissed off a small noble family from the Day court by inappropriately sealing a letter meant for a friend, but that’s another story). While pail green signaled reproach, a true dark green meant hope. He sealed his letter to Viviane with hope for a long and happy life in each other's company. 

He’d give it to her before she left, he decided, slipping the letter into the false bottom of his middle desk drawer. No need for anyone to see it before it was time to be given to her. Kal quickly slipped a clean tunic over his head, and walked out the door to dinner, his heart feeling lighter than it had in years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking so much time between updates. I'm trying to be gentle with myself on my personal deadlines, but this story is dear to my heart, and it's nice to write it and escape from reality for a short time. I hope you enjoy, and I hope you and your family and friends are all safe, healthy, and well.


	7. When you wish upon a fir

Viviane woke the first morning of celebrations to Viola slipping in bed beside her, and placing her cold feet against her legs. Her little sister curled around her, tucking herself into Viviane’s side.

They’d done this often in the past several years. Nights were cold, and the howls of unknown animals prowling drove everyone indoors, a little further away from the sounds. The only difference now was they were in a bigger bed, with more pillows, and the softest sheets. 

“Good morning,” Viv yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. 

“Morning,” Viola muttered back, “We don’t have to be up yet, it’s just strange sleeping in different rooms.”

Viviane looked towards the clock on the mantle. Half past 6. They still had plenty of time to sleep. There would be no brunch today, everyone fasted the whole day through. Solstice was a mere five days from now, and tonight kicked off the court’s celebrations. Tonight they would light a great fir tree on fire, one that had been grown from sapling by the priestesses of Winter to offer as a sacrifice to their people through the darkest nights of the year. The tree would be burned, standing tall, for five days and five nights. Tonight they were to pin their wishes, and dreams and ambitions to its branches in the hopes that the next journey around the sun would bring favor and honor to them and their families. 

Viviane loathed the trees burning, in truth it felt like a waste, but she loved what it represented. In the darkness, there can always be light. The tree would watch over them under its flames, watch them dance and sing and drink and feast. Viviane could only imagine how lonely it felt, if it were to have feelings of course. 

“What will you wish for?” Viola asked, almost reading her mind. 

“I was wondering the same of you, actually,” she rolled over to face her sister, whose eyes were still shut tight. 

“That’s not an answer, I asked first,” she sighed. 

“Well, I haven’t decided yet. There’s not much to wish for when I’m surrounded by friends and family and getting to wear the most gorgeous things I’ve ever owned.” That in particular had been a perk of returning. The Lady of Winter had made arrangements for their dresses to be made and altered for them. 

“Mmm,” Viola rolled over, cracking her eyes open and facing the ceiling. “I can’t decide either. There’s so much we could wish for you know,” she turned her head to look at Viviane. 

“What are you deciding between, there’s got to be something sticking out to you.” 

Viola drew in a breath, “I’m torn between the practicalities of wishing for something simple that I know I can achieve and praying to all the gods in and beyond my knowledge for something that I might not ever be able to attain.” 

“I can see why you’re torn, those are big questions. We have all our life ahead of us, so there’s plenty of time to achieve the small things that feel safe. This is a sacred wish, wish for something big.”

“I think sometimes I might be wishing for a million things. I want to find what I’m good at, I want to find my mate, I long for change and happiness,” she once again turned to her sister, “There are so many things that I don’t know and sometimes it seems like it’s going to swallow me. I think most of all I wish I could have a crystal ball and gaze into the future.” 

“Then let’s set out to find you a crystal ball, there must be one somewhere in the wide world that we can claim. We’ll sail jagged seas and scale the tallest mountains we can find.” 

“It’ll take a hundred years at least, are you ready to sign on for that kind of nonsense?”

“For a crystal ball? For you? It’s a tough decision, but we’ve got time. Are you ready to be songs sung by soldiers around campfires centuries from now? Off to vanquish some vast and deadly enemy for the sake of good, singing of pirate sisters and their quest for the future?”

“The way you put it makes it sound all the better, when can we leave?” Viola’s eyes started to drift shut once more, the early embers of dawn lighting the windowsill behind her. 

“As soon as we wake, of course. There’s no delaying that kind of journey.” Viviane rolled back to her side, as her sister began to softly snore. This is how they’d kept their hearts happy after they’d left the safe and colorful walls of the palace. Imagining pirates, daring sword fights, princes, and perhaps princesses too. At the end, they’d always found their mates, and loved them for the rest of their very long lives. That to Viviane seemed more like a folly than hunting down a future telling crystal ball. Mates didn’t just fall from the sky, to live at the same time as your perfect match would be more rare than any number she could possibly imagine. Viviane had decided long ago that her highest hopes were to be happy, to find someone who loved her and who wanted to be loved. 

Viviane lay awake, keeping still not to disturb her bright hearted little sister curled beside her. When she’d realized her parents weren’t mates, she’d lost all belief in the institution. She could never imagine anyone loving each other more than her mother and father loved, or maybe, she mused, feeling her eyes droop heavily, maybe there was more to it than just love. She’d settle for a husband that was kind, and one that didn’t bind her from her will. Anything more was just all the better, she thought as she fell back into her sleep. 

\---

Viviane woke several hours later to her mother flinging open the doors, and turning on all of the lights, a trail of servants following behind her. Viola groaned loudly next to her, and threw her head beneath her pillow.

“Ah girls, lovely of you to join the land of the living,” Mother sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing her skirts as she did. “We have our final fittings this morning, loves, it’s time to get up.” 

“Hear me out,” Viola grumbled beneath her pillow, Viviane throwing her arm over her eyes to block the light, “What if, we just go naked instead. That would be the ultimate fashion statement, we could start a new trend.” 

“Oh that’s a delightful idea,” their mother purred, moving to snatch the pillow from Viola’s head, “I’m fine with nudity as long as you explain to our lovely lady why you’re not wearing the dresses she painstakingly had made for you.”

Viviane peaked out from under her arm, Viola’s face had turned white. 

“Morning mother,” Viv said, smiling gayly. 

“Good morning dear,” her mother moved to kiss her on the cheek and reached over to pinch Viola’s. 

Mother stood, and gestured to the servants that had been standing quietly, watching their early morning encounter. “Could you set the dress stands over there? Or should we move it to see under the natural light.” Their mother flurried about the room, delegating tasks as she once had done as part of their lady’s court. 

Viviane and Viola had been left to their devices, under the expectation that they would do what their mother would expect. They should be clean, and ready to have the myriad of dresses altered to them this morning. Viviane held herself to those expectations, brushing her teeth, and splashing cool water on her face, tugging at her under eyes to try to erase the dark circles that plagued her, and strutted back out to meet her mother and the dressmakers. Five nights of celebrations, five dresses to wear, five different sets of jewels to choose and hair to plan. Viviane couldn’t help but feel relieved that her mother had waited until this morning to thrust the final details on them. Any earlier and Viola would have wanted an entire wardrobe change, and Viviane would have wanted to go home. But they were in it now, she sighed, stripping down to her underclothes as a light blue skinned fae took a measuring tape to her waist and breasts. 

While standing over a display of jewels that had been brought into her room, Viola’s stomach let out an ungodly growl. One so loud that Viviane heard it across the room. One so loud her mother stopped pointing at the sparkly bauble she’d just been admiring to look at her youngest with a questioning look on her face, and Viola hollered in annoyance. 

“I don’t see why we couldn’t sneak a snack in before tonight. It’s going to be hours, and hours until we light the tree, and that means there are hours and hours and hours before we’re going to get to eat.” 

Viviane chuckled from across the room, earning her a glare from the seamstress, eyes warning her she should not dare move around the dressmaker’s pins. 

When the seamstress had finished her pins, she looked Viviane up and down. “You look like you’re wrapped in sky,” she sighed, admiring her work. 

And sky it was. Viviane was wearing a light blue dress, the muted satin of the horizon after a snowstorm had calmed, and clouds had parted. It swished like a bell around her feet, and was tied with a lighter sash around her waist. 

Viviane straightened her spine, squared her shoulders, and held her chin high as she looked in the mirror. Still shabby from sleep her braid looked knotted and the hair around her temples stuck up in every which direction, but she was surprised to see a female standing before her — not a trace of fear or apprehension in her face. Viviane looked like she belonged, and made the executive decision that she damn well did. Cracking her neck, she knew that she would make it through today, and love every second of tonight. She was going to absorb this ceremony like a sponge, and embrace the magic, and the gaiety, and the gluttony of these upcoming days. She would be beautiful, and she would stand beside her sister, and she would belong there, not some mountain hide-away but a female ready to take the world on at its face. 

Viviane smoothed down the pale blue of her dress, and for a moment was content. 

\---

It was hours later, right before sunset, when Viviane was gathered with her sister and mother again. She had spent the afternoon stringing together garlands of dried citrus, in anticipation for tomorrow night’s dances with Viola and Kalias’ sisters. Eira had explained to Viviane with a particular roll of her eyes that the young and unmatched males would be presented with the garlands at random by the Lady, and would dictate their first dance partners of the night. Legend said the gods of Winter smiled fondly on those who were put together.  
And so she had strung on slices of lemon, orange, and pink, pink grapefruit together - savoring the smell of citrus that lingered on her fingers. Citrus was a rare treasure at the borders, and Viviane did not intend to waste their smell. When she had glanced over at her sister, she’d noticed Viola was doing the same, melting at the light, clear scent that lingered in the room.  
She had her wish in hand, inked onto a grey ribbon that would be tied to the tree. With one final primp their mother had decided they were ready. Viola was wearing a dress of dark teal satin, a small silver belt cinched at her waist, honeyed hair dangling free in waves over her shoulders. 

Viviane was tucked neatly into her dress, hair braided in a crown around her head, and small silver earrings dangling from her lobes. 

“My girls, my girls, I never thought I’d get you out of soldier's clothes again, but here we are,” she touched each girl's cheek lovingly/ “Do you have your ribbons? Are we all ready?”

“Oh, damn, I knew I’d forgotten something,” Viola took off at a full sprint to the desk where they’d written out their hearts greatest desires earlier. 

“Don’t say damn, Viola!” Mother called following after her to the desk. 

“Didn’t you know, Viola, damn is such a damned dirty work. I don’t know how the hell you get away with being so damn barbaric!” Viviane swatted an imaginary piece of fluff from her arm, waiting for the glare from her mother. 

“No shit!” Viola called, ribbon in hand. “Whatever will I do now that all of the court knows I’m a cursing harlot!” Viola threw her hand against her forehead, and leaned dramatically against a bed post. 

Viviane swept over to her, “We’ll have to grin and bear it dear. However will we find husbands when they know my sister is a cursing hussy? You’ve ruined us, Viola, ruined us.” Viviane took care not to mash her well pinned and sprayed hair as she collapsed onto the bed. 

“Are you done? Your father is probably out of his mind waiting for us all,” Mother shook her head, but a smile still crept to the corner of her lips. 

Viviane sighed, “Suppose father knows his beloved daughter is a charlatan? Or shall he hear from the court, mother?”

Mother closed her eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, “I am going now, if my ruined daughters would like to come along?” 

Viola wiped the drama from her face, plastering in its stead a glowing smile. “Down we go Mama,” she linked her arm first through Viviane’s, and then their mothers next, making them walk sideways to get out the door and down the halls and stairs to the grand ballroom. 

And grand it was, decked out in more baubles of silver and gold than Viviane had ever remembered it having in years past. Perhaps, she mused, she hadn’t been paying much attention to the decor, but rather to Kallias as they sneaked under tables, and debated over the best wishes they could think of. 

But now he was standing proud next to his sisters, dressed in deep green tunic, deeper than even the giant fir that stood outside the doors to the courtyard. 

It was freezing, this night always was. They left the doors to the courtyard and gardens open as people wandered in and out to get a look at the tree that would soon be cloaked in flame burning to the sky. It had to be 30 meters high, easily. 

The High Lord spoke, voice echoing through the hall and out into the gardens, “Welcome Kith and Kin, to the night we begin our celebrations. We’ve fasted all day, waiting to honor our lights in the darkness of the solstice nights. Now we shall feast, and drink, and dance, and hope that the gods deign to bless us as they have blessed us before. Tie your ribbons to the tree, and Good Solstice to you all!” 

There was a cold air that spread through the crowd. An icy frost that raised up and slipped the ribbon from Viviane’s fingers. Gods, she loved this part. 

The High Lord wore a mask of concentration, tying the ribbons together in the wind, and wrapping them around the tree, wrapping it in a rainbow of hopes. Of all the decorations, this one was her favorite. 

There were dozens of silver ribbons, but she could feel where hers was, nestled near the top, watching her, and she watched back wondering if it would come true. 

The lady took a torch in one hand, and lifted her full silver skirts with the other, walking with a look of pride across her face as she touched the tip of the torch to the base of the tree, where it had been surrounded by kindling treated with magic from fiery friends faraway. 

And up the flame rose, heat kissing Viviane’s cheeks, as she stared, eyes opened wide as the tree was engulfed by frosted, white flames. Yet still, she could see that as always the tree did not burn, it did not crack, instead it glowed, so warmly it was almost like the sun hadn’t set. 

Cheering had erupted, as the fae moved back inside to where tables were laden heavily with a feast that made her mouth water. 

“I’ve never seen anything like your tree,” Mor said, appearing at her side despite the crown moving back into the ballrooms. 

“I’m sure you have celebrations as grand at the Night Court, don’t you?” Viviane tipped her head, and looked around quickly for her sister. 

“We do, we wine under the stars. I always knew the Winter Court celebrated solstice wildly, but I never imagined that it centered on riches and wishes and fire blazing fir trees.” Mor chuckled softly, gesturing Viviane towards open seats, “Care to sit with me? I’m afraid Eira and Melia are preoccupied tonight.”

Viviane smiled warmly, “Of course. I’ve heard of your starlight festival, in a book of course. I’ve never really celebrated, but it sounds beautiful.”

Mor met her smile, “It is. It’s the best night of the year for mine.”

“What did you imagine we’d do to celebrate?” Viviane asked, pulling back a heavy wooden chair and settling in. Mor grabbed the bottle of champagne sitting in an ice bucket on the table, and poured their flutes to the brim. 

“Well, I imagined it would be long and dull, and I imagined that there would be more snowball fights and less glamour.” 

“Glamour is our lady’s specialty. There’ll be nothing but glamour for us all for the next five days. She sent for my and my sisters measurements two months ago to have our costumes made in time,”  
Viviane glandes at the head table, where the High Lord and his lady sat surrounded by their children. Melia and Eira looked like the moon and stars, one dressed in silver gossamer and another in gold. Kalias looked happy, a wide, crooked grin plastered across his face, and a slight rose hue in his cheeks. 

“She is kind. And he is very handsome,” Mor said with a glance, drinking deeply from the champagne. 

“Hmm?” Viviane whipped her head to look at Morrigan. Of course she thought he was handsome. 

“The High Lord’s son, Kalias. He’s very handsome,” she smirked. 

“I suppose,” Viviane reached to grab bread to dip in the herbed oil that the folk sat in front of them. “But I’ve known Kalias for a long, long time,” she paused to chew, “And I don’t know that I can call someone handsome that I’ve seen dragged through the mud by his horse.” 

“I know many people who look better muddy than they do clothed,” Mor said coyly. 

Viviane’s cheeks grew hot, “I suppose that’s one way to look at it.” She fell silent, swallowing bread at a breakneck speed to still the quake in her stomach and the awkwardness of the quiet. Around her the hall bustled, she spotted Viola sitting with their father, looking tremendously sharp in the soft grey of his uniform. He caught her eye and offered a wink. 

A pit of fear descended in her belly. She’d just gotten Kalias back, and now it felt like he was going to be swept away by Mor, it would be easy to be swept off your feet by someone as beautiful as she. That must be the reason she was here, to meet Kalias. To see if he would make a suitable match. She stole another glance to the High King’s table, Kal’s eyes were scanning the room. Their gazes met and he offered her a smile and a wave, which Viviane returned with a nod of her head.

“It’s a shame I’m already betrothed,” Mor sighed, “and a bigger shame his head is so difficult to turn.” Viviane raised her eyebrows.

“A better match than the future High Lord of Winter? Who else has as fine a son?”

Mor snorted, “I wouldn’t go so far as to say my fiance is a fine son. It’s Eris, son of the High Lord of Autumn.”

“The border that my father and my family work to secure meets with the Autumn lands. From the little I’ve seen, they’re very beautiful, and I’m sure you’ll look lovely in gold.” 

“You’re good at this, courtly talk. I thought you’d been away long enough to forget it.” Mor dipped the crusty bread into the oil, and popped the square into her mouth. 

Viviane laughed, “Diplomacy is used for soldiers too, you know. I learned from my father how to make the best of any situation — not that you’re a situation of course,” Viviane’s cheeks flushed, “You’re not a situation to make the best of, I just don’t think before I speak sometimes.”

“Psh, you’re fine. I am a situation, a whole situation. And you’re handling me well. I’m only teasing, of course. Your little prince up there seems lovely.” 

“Oh, he’s not my anything. Well he’ll be my High Lord one day I suppose, but we’ve only just started speaking again, when I left the Hall of Crystals, we really didn’t stay in touch.”

“How interesting,” Mor tilted her head, her golden hair spilling over her shoulder. “Melia and Eira speak as if you’ve been in the family forever. But I must have been mistaken.”

“Well, there’s some truth to that, at least with Eira, I’ve been friends with her for quite some time, we kept in touch these past few years, she’s one of my closest friends. Melia… well Melia walks to the beat of her own drum, she chooses when she’s ready to be friendly with someone and when she needs her space she needs her space.” Viviane’s eyes lit up as more food was placed in front of them, the decadent smell of poultry soaked in lemon hit her nose and it was so divine she very nearly cried. 

“That’s a good way to describe Melia, I haven’t known her for as long as you’ve known her, but she often seems as lost as the rest of us. Are you not drinking your champagne?” Mor’s eyes flicked to her glass, which had laid untouched in front of her. 

“Oh, damn. I was too excited about the bread to pay attention to the wine.” 

“Isn’t that always how it is? You eat all of the bread and then barely have room for the wine you need to get through a function like this.” Mor topped off her drink and raised it to clink with Viviane’s. 

“Here’s to new friends, and old, and Good Solstice to us all,” Mor offered to her. 

“Hear, hear,” Viviane offered her glass to Mor’s. 

“Don’t look now, but your friend is coming over,” Mor said, draining her glass, and patting Viviane on the shoulder. “I should go make the rounds, sit with some of my father’s friends. Thank you for joining me, I can’t wait to see what other celebrations your court has to offer."

Viviane’s head first whipped to look as Kalias strutted across the hall, others now getting up to switch seats, and offer their hellos around the room. 

“Hi, Viv, you look wonderful,” Kallias slipped into the seat Mor had sat in only moments before. 

“Hi, hi,” she stuttered, cringing internally at the pitch her voice had sprang to. Viv cleared her throat, “You look wonderful too, your shirt matches the tree.”

He chuckled, his deep voice roaring in her ears. “Thank you, mother designed it that way. I am the metaphorical tree I guess,” he shrugged, as he reached across the table to grab an empty wine glass and pour himself from a bottle of red. 

“A metaphorical tree? I thought you were the literal tree? We’re not going to hoist you atop the flaming one outside? What a disappointment.” She picked up her own glass and took a dainty sip, flicking her eyes over to where he sat stunned. 

“Sadly, I don’t get to be the tree this year, maybe another.” He cleared his throat. “Do you remember, when we were children, we’d crawl under the tables while my father gave one of his speeches, and try our damndest to snatch the bread without anyone noticing? That was all I could think of up there while father gave his blessing.”

“Me too! Gods, do you remember how we would compare wishes too? To see who could come up with the better one?”

“Of course! I always won, if I recall.” He turned away from her and to the empty dance floor as his parents gestured for the orchestra to begin. 

“Only in your dreams. Remember when you wished you could fly? Like you wouldn’t be able to winnow? Such an impractical gift when you can already travel instantly.”

His gaze returned to her, “You remember that?”

“Obviously, I won by saying that I wanted to be queen of the world, so even if I traveled slowly I’d still be able to see it all.” She smiled at the memory, and placing her elbows on the table she sank her chin into her hands to watch the High Lord and his lady sail across the floor in the first dance of Solstice. Unmatched or unmarried Males and Females had to wait another night to join in, tradition dictated. As children, they’d sneaked off to a corridor to jig and reel, any opportunity to break the rules had to be embraced. 

“I remember. I still wish I could fly, though you’d make a wonderful queen of the world.” He matched her stance, elbows on the table. 

“You think?” 

He nodded firmly, eyes glued to the couples on the dancefloor. “I always wanted to fly because it seemed like true freedom. Maybe I should have wished to be a bird instead.” 

Viviane took a long and hard look at him, running different words through her head as he turned to look at her, head propped on one hand looking intently. 

“What did you wish for this year, Kalias?” She asked, ignoring the pit in her belly. 

“You know I can’t tell you that, otherwise it won’t come true.”

“You still don’t tell your wishes?”

“Never,” he shook his head. “It seems like asking to be unhappy.” He was silent for several beats, “Did you make a garland with my sisters today?”

“Of course, Viola and I both did. Eira and Melia told us all about it.”

“Mm,” he grunted. “Mother is hanging them on everyone’s door knobs this year. Last year she tried to deliver them to each room, but walked in on several… shall we say inappropriate situations. We never heard the end of it, but I think she was secretly pleased. The garlands are her favorite tradition, she always tells us at breakfast the morning of when her garland was delivered to my father’s room by his mother.” 

“Ugh, the romance. Your mother and father are sickeningly sweet, I’d forgotten how sweet.”

Kal chuckled lightly, “They’re wonderful, they really are.” He turned to face her. 

“Yes, can I help you?” she said startled at the intensity of his gaze. 

“I have a very serious question for you, Viviane.” 

“Okay?” She swallowed hard. 

“Very serious, in fact, life or death serious.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, “What is it?”

He took a deep breath in, and grabbed her hand. “Would you like… to go get some pie with me?” 

“Pie?”

“Yes. Pie.”

“What is your love for pie? I distinctly remember stealing cake with you.” She chuckled at the drama, but he still grasped her hand. 

“Shh, shh Viviane. This is important. Pie…” He took in a sharp breath, “Is just so damn delicious. Would you like to find an alcove, and eat an entire pie with me?”

“An entire pie you say?”

“An entire pie,” he nodded gravely. 

“I could be persuaded,” she said, using her free hand to finish her drink. “What kind of pie?”

“Well, here’s the thing. We have options, but there’s a right decision here and a wrong decision. There’s cherry, there’s lemon, there’s pear, there’s raspberry, rhubarb, strawberry, lingonberry, all kinds of pie.” 

She thought for a moment. “It seems like you’re the pie expert, grab one and surprise me, I’ll get the wine, meet me by the doors to the courtyard in five?”

He grinned at her, flashing a brilliant smile that crinkled to the corners of his eyes. “You’re on.” 

Pie and wine, wine and pie. No better way to spend the evening.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello Hello
> 
> It's been forever since I've posted. Finals have been eating my brain and my ability to write anything other than an exposition on Papa John's response to John Schnatter. 
> 
> Anywhooom 
> 
> This is the beginning of Solstice! I hope you enjoy! Some of the traditions are a combination of pagan traditions that I found reading about yule, as well as a personal spin on holiday traditions my family in Appalachia had when they were children, AND the lovely SJM's version in a A Court of Frost and Starlight. This is the biggest holiday for our dear winter folk, so it's obviously going to be a blast. 
> 
> special thanks to Gracie-luu for helping me to brainstorm how to make solstice special, and offering support grammatically and morally as I trudged through this chapter. Enjoy, Good Solstice!


	8. Tea and Thoughts

Kal had stumbled back to his room in the wee hours of the morning, drunk off of the golden, honeyed wines that had been served late into the evening. The nights were carefully designed, never to overwhelm, always to inspire. Their power was heightened in the cold and in the night of the Solstice, his father had said to him once when he was a young boy. That someday he would feel the power flowing through his veins and he would understand what invincibility felt like. 

Kal certainly didn’t know what it was to be invincible, but he did know what it was to be hungover, and he most certainly knew what it was to be nervous. The garland that he would use to determine his first dance was already likely outside of his door, and the thought made his heart shoot into the pit of his stomach.   
It would be strange to say he wanted it to be Viviane, he’d concluded. Viviane was a friend, Viviane deserved to dance with someone new. But then… his heart would leap up from the pit it had nestled in and whisper, Wouldn’t it be lovely if it were Viviane? And he couldn’t help but agree. Dancing with Viviane would be a treasure he decided, not that any time spent with her was in annoyance, or at least there hadn’t been annoyance since she’d been back. 

Kal pulled his duvet over his head, partially to ignore the sun that streamed in through the window, but mostly to delay finding the garland, whether it was Viviane’s or not. He also didn’t want to move, moving meant tending to his needs, and moving meant the nausea that now laid siege in his belly would be dangerously close to winning the battle. After years of drinking with his sisters, he knew that if he lost this battle with his stomach this early in solstice it was all over. He could count himself out on the later days when they opened up his father’s treasured trove of distilled fruit spirits. He knew some of the Males liked to posture at each other like cats preparing to claw it out over territory and pretend they weren’t impressed by the spirits - but Kal had no qualms whatsoever drinking the cranberry liqueur that was made below the halls of Cynefin, the other stronghold of the Winter Court, nearly kissing the border of Autumn. 

He needed to do it. He needed to stand up. If he stood up, he said to himself, there’s likely to be a late breakfast set out for all of the court that was up until sunrise, and if there was breakfast, there had to be bacon. If there was bacon, it was simply a crime not to rise and participate. He could do that. And if he happened to come across a certain box with a certain garland of someones then he could move about his day, and instead of thinking about how lovely Viviane had looked last night by the flame of the fir he could think about the war he was currently losing with his stomach. 

Kal sighed. It was all in a day's work. 

“All you really have to do, Kalias,” he huffed at himself, throwing the cover from his face, and flopping his arms to his sides, “is simply fall out of bed. Just slide out. That’s more than half of the work done.” He stared at the ceiling for a long hard second, at the troll’s face that Viviane had painted above his bed to torment him, telling him it was a sign from his soulmate. 

Kal moved, it only took every ounce of strength he had. He was not winning the battle. 

He slid himself out of bed, taking half of the blankets with him, wrapping the knitted blanket around his shoulders and head before daring to make his way into his bathing room. 

All it took was one look in the mirror, and Kal knew tonight he would not be drinking. Not a single drop in fact. No one could convince him that any glass of wine could be worth looking as wretched as he looked now. He could almost hear Eira’s laugh if she saw him. He had half a mind to cross the hall to her rooms and lay on the divan — she was bound to call food up to her and he could spare himself the embarrassment of presenting himself to the others, or worse, heading for breakfast in private with his mother and father. But that would probably mean not seeing Viviane, which at the   
moment outweighed the idea of sprawling on a divan. 

Viviane, his pale face blanched of all color. There was most certainly a garland outside of his door, and there was a slim change his mother, or the Gods, or some other force of nature, had made it so that her’s was outside waiting for him. There was of course the very large chance that he had one of the garlands from the dozens of other females at the court. Still, there was a small part of him that hoped fate had left him the one she’d made outside of his room. 

He strode across the room, pausing only momentarily at the handle before he accepted his fate. It’s only for the first dance he reminded himself. It didn’t mean that they were fated or doomed to marry the partners the garland gave them, it only meant that fate would smile upon the match. 

Outside of his door was a small box, wrapped in golden paper, and stamped with a holly wax seal. My Son the tag read. 

Kal lifted the box from the ground in near reverence and moved to place it on his writing desk. He lifted the lid and saw a garland tucked delicately in tissue paper, pink with grapefruit, bright with lemon and lime. He took a moment to admire the bright scents, before snatching the name card that was inside. Morrigan, of the Night Court. 

Kal dropped the card and sat in the chair with a thump. 

There were what felt like a thousand females at court this year, and Morrigan was not a bad one to be paired with. But Kal couldn’t help but feel a tinge of disappointment, like the knick of a knife at his chest. Morrigan was a friend of Eira and Melia, and he knew his mother had been helpful in pairing them up, better than the deadly silent girl he’d been paired with at the last solstice, she hadn’t bothered to hide her disappointment at being paired with him, nor did she care for small talk. They’d danced through their traditional obligation, and she hadn’t bothered to find him again. In a way he respected it. Many females, at the behest of their families, were flung on Kal like he was a prized animal to hunt. When he’d come of age, and no engagement had been announced, it had shocked the court, and spurred them into action, trying to win power or favor through their daughters, or occasionally sons. 

It was to be expected. He couldn’t help but wonder who Viviane had been paired with, someone nice he hoped, who would bore her to tears and step on her toes, and promptly annoy her until she was bored to death and ready to dance with someone else. Perhaps he could be someone else. 

He leaned back in the chair, and rubbed his throbbing temples. He’d gone from exhausted and pained to deeply annoyed in a matter of seconds, the remnants of his drinks from the night before weren’t helping - he felt slow, and hollow, and nearly dizzy trying to think. He decided it was only fair, or at least he told himself, to want to spend all the time he could with his friend before she had to leave again. It was fine that he was jealous of her time with some other strange male from gods only knows where, who was going to step on her toes and ruin her night, and truly he’d just have to be thrown out. Tossed out the window perhaps immediately, upon first glance even, before the strange male could gather her in her arms and whisk her off for a dazzling and romantic evening. 

Kal had decided in the minutes since reading the card that he severely disliked the male who was holding Viviane’s garland at the moment. If he were a more cruel or bloodthirsty son, like Eris, he would send him from the court. But Kal was not, and he could not rouse himself beyond the annoyance and hurt that he felt at not holding Viviane’s garland in his hands.

Running his hands through his hair and across his face, finally he stood up and threw a robe of a deep velvet gray on over his rumpled sleeping clothes, and went to wash his face. He knew from experience in years past that he would look rough, but what Kal didn’t expect to see were patches of glitter sporadically decorating his face. 

From the decorations, he realized. Garlands laden with glitter hung from the eaves and balconies of the ballroom, sending a glittering sheen over the room all night. Also causing him to look like he had trotted through a storm of sparkles. 

Kal sighed and grabbed the vial with the wash Melia had given him for his birthday, because she had said, “Your complexion doesn’t look lordly enough”, and she had been right. The magical liquid in the vial drank the dark pools from beneath his eyes and left him looking refreshed and nearly glowing. 

It all made him feel slightly more put together. He walked out, and stood, hip leaned against the door frame, looking at the garland with considered annoyance. Not at Morrigan, he understood, but at life rather, and perhaps most of all annoyance at himself for caring whose garland he had. It was tradition, not the end of the world, he soothed himself. 

Finally, when he realized that staring at the garland, willing it to change would do nothing, he slipped on a pair of slippers, and walked out of his door, and towards the wafting smell of bacon. 

___

There were many interesting informal traditions of the mornings during Solstice. One was that you would always catch friends and foe alike slipping between the rooms they’d slept in and the rooms they had been assigned to. The looks of abject horror as people wandered the stone floors trying to find the place they were supposed to have been. The second, and maybe the worst thing, was the hangovers that came from the liquor. And the wine. And the champagne, and the fasting on the odd days leading up to the final and grand celebrations. It left Kal with a headache, and a stomach so tender he never knew if he was going to make it through the day. In years past, he’d either flung himself in the floor of his bathroom waiting to die, or complained alongside Eira, waiting for death to claim them both. 

The final informal tradition was that everyone under the sun who was deemed kith or kin of the Winter Court was brought to stay at the palace. This meant constantly running into relatives, or the friends of relatives, or the relatives of friends, and having to recount the year past, and once more explain that No, he was not yet betrothed, and Yes, there would be an announcement if that ever occurred. In recent years, the questions had become so frequent he had considered creating a sign to wear around his neck explaining that there would be no wedding in their futures. 

But among the traditions that were perhaps annoying or troublesome, there were very, very good things. Like the late breakfast that now lay before him, piled upon clean white china waiting to be devoured. In years past, especially when they were younger all three siblings would join their parents in their informal dining chamber to recount the ridiculousness of the night before, and the magic. But in recent years, they’d migrated to being amongst the guests at the later sprawling buffet meant to absorb the liquor left rolling in their bellies in time to fill them once more by the earlier and earlier sunset.

Kallias smiled to himself, and began covering the surface of a plate with eggs, and crusty bread, and bacon, moving through the room and weaving among the fair folk that looked about as good as he felt, trying to avoid conversation with all of his might.

There was one last thing he had to do, make a strong cup of tea to take to his room with him — to soothe the rawness of his throat, and the cotton of his tongue that water had not washed away. It was there, at the table that held displays of loose tea leaves and respective cotton silk pouches to steep them in, that he saw Morrigan across the room, huddled in an alcove at the window with Viviane, and his elder sister, looking oddly composed as they sipped their cups of tea and coffee. Kal took one look and debated whether or not he should disturb them, and decided that rather he’d rather recount his night with Eira, who was nowhere to be seen. 

As skillfully as he slipped in, he slipped out, tempted to winnow up to her room, but too cautious with his tea to risk it. 

When he finally shuffled to Eira’s door, he knocked once with his hand, as he balanced the tea cup on the elbow of the arm that carted his food. Kal shuffled, turning the crystal knob and opening the door, to find an empty room and an empty, untouched bed. 

He could only chuckle to himself as he wondered what male had snagged her attention the night before. With any luck, he thought, it would be the one that mother had paired her garland with. If luck with such things existed. 

Kal closed the door behind him and made himself at home, sprawling across the fur rug in front of the fire that had burned down to embers. He set his bounty from breakfast out around him and took a moment to appreciate how beautiful it looked. She’d be back sooner or later, and would be ready to recount her escapades he knew with almost certainty. 

It wasn’t long until there was a click, as the knob turned quickly and Eira rushed in, frown seeped into her face, and mascara on her cheeks, cloaked in the same gown as the night before, rumpled, and untied in the back. 

“You should really lock your door while all these visitors are in the palace, anyone could come and snoop through your belongings,” he said, from his position in front of the fireplace. 

“Oh, Kal,” she sniffled. “I wasn’t really expecting anyone,” she flashed him a small smile, “it’s still early.” She rubbed her sleeve against her face, where the mascara had dried, smearing it across her face.

Kal knew he could go two routes. One was the route of the possessive brother, demanding to know who had made her cry, the other was more sensible. “I have bacon,” he said, handing her a slice from his plate.

A look of relief washed across her face, and she crossed the room to sink down on the rug in front of him, taking both the bacon and the tea from his hand. 

“Blegh! I don’t know how you take your tea so sweet, there’s enough sugar in there to kill. We can’t have a toothless lord, Kalias.” She chided, eyes glancing over her cup to assess him. 

“On the contrary, I think a toothless High Lord would be rather disarming to our enemies. They wouldn’t have to worry about me biting a chunk out of their shoulder like Frode the Fearsome did. The real danger, would I gum them?” 

A smile crossed her face at his joke. The crusts of mascara were flaking off of her cheeks, and landing on her dress like little flecks of black snow. 

Kal cleared his throat, “I do have to ask, are you alright? There’s no male I need to send to the gallows is there?” He raised a brow to look at her frustration as she withdrew within herself once more. 

“There’s no male you need to send to the gallows.” She studied the tea cup in her hand, “When did you become interested in sending anyone to the gallows, Kalias?” 

Kal snatched the final piece of bacon from the plate, “Only when someone is foolish enough to try to wound the hearts of my sisters.” He sniffed, “Give me a name, and I’ll help you get father to give them the boot, permanently uninvited from our Solstice festivities.” 

“No,” fear flashed across Eira’s face, as her eyebrows contracted in. “That’s not necessary, this time. Besides, I can wage my own warfare, brother. No need to save you poor, weak sisters.” She rolled her eyes at him, and walked to the bathing room, taking the half empty tea cup with her. Eira shut the door, and he heard the pipes begin to rattle as the shower turned on. 

She’d either tell him or she wouldn’t. Eira was rarely secretive, but when she was he found it best not to pry in her business, she would tell him when she wanted to. That knowledge didn’t stop the morbid curiosity at who she’d been with, or why she’d come back tear stained. 

Kal finished what was left of his breakfast, and started to revive. Time was helping the alcohol to leave his system, and being alone gave him the time to think. Morrigan’s garland. He’d have to tell Eira, obviously. Mor was her friend, she’d have to know. And hopefully by tonight whatever male had wounded Eira’s heart would be long forgotten as she met with the one who had her garland. 

Garlands, garlands, garlands. Stupid garlands. For a moment he toyed with the idea of ending the tradition when he became High Lord, but that was centuries away, and he suspected he’d forget before then. With a sigh, he laid on his back, and stared at the ceiling, where Eira had had Melia paint her scenes from all the courts. There were the deepest blackest of skies dotted with stars for the Night Court, and leaves tumbling down from Autumn. As for their court Melia has settled on a foggy gray, one that didn’t immediately scream of beauty or splendor as the other courts images might. But Melia knew that Eira would understand why she’d chosen this, the Winter Court was a hard place to survive, an even harder place to live happily, and those who did relished the fog and the dangerous beauty that surrounded them. The fog was a cloak around their shoulders, keeping outsiders out and away, and shrouding those within who understand how to live with her mists. 

The showers creaked off. It was too early in the day to be poetic, he reminded himself, and rolled over until he was facing the last embers of the fire, nearly burned out. 

Minutes later Eira emerged, brushing her hair, with a more composed look on her face. Her eyes were red, like she’d been crying, and her cheeks were flushed pink from scrubbing off the trails of mascara that had danced down her face. 

“So,” she asked, sitting on the divan, and combing roughly through her hair, “who’s garland did you get?” 

Kal flopped back onto his back. “Do you really want to know?” 

“Yes, of course I want to know. I need to prepare in case it’s a power hungry female who’s going to trail Mel and I across the court for the next year trying to weasel her way into courting you.”

Kal chuckled, “I think we’re safe from that,” and after a beat he said, “It’s your friend, Morrigan.”

The brush halted in her hands. “That’s… fantastic!” Eira’s eyes lit up, “Oh my Gods, mother must have been pleased with herself when she placed Mor’s at your door, sneaky sneaky.” Eira stood, and walked to her mirror, where she finished untangling her hair. 

“It really is a shame she’s engaged to that absolute elk’s ass from Autumn. I’d much rather gain her as a sister here, than an ally in their court.”

“Oh would you?” Kal asked, incredulously, “Are you marrying me off now?” 

“Not exactly, though I think everyone would be rather pleased if you could woo Mor, she despises the elk’s ass.”

“His name is Eris.”

“I know what his name is, if he wanted to be referred to by his name he shouldn’t act like an elk’s ass all the time,” Eira huffed, shooting him an annoyed look

“If I made a move on Eris’ fiance, he’d come for my head,” Kal tried to reason. 

“Good, if he came for your head then we could take his. There’s a lovely post on the gate that would look dazzling with his head spiked on it. I have no patience for males who think they possess females without showing them a moment’s interest or kindness.” Eira dropped her comb loudly on the vanity, and threw herself on her bed. 

“It’s not that she’s not beautiful, you know. There just doesn’t seem to be any reason for me to find an interest in anyone when mother and father are going to have the final say in who my wife is going to be.” Kal had often thought of this, especially when the daughters and sons of the courtiers were pursuing him heavily. There was no use finding an interest in any of them when marriages were so often made to secure alliances between the courts, his parents had been, and he expected nothing different for himself. 

“You’re right. But Eris can still kiss my ass.” 

“I don’t think you’d want him anywhere near your ass. Last time we saw him I distinctly remember he smelled like a wet badger.” 

A cackle escaped Eira’s lips, “He did, he did. I hadn’t remembered that. Maybe I should call him badger ass, is it more fitting?”

“No, no, elk’s ass has a certain flair to it. A cultural significance if you will.” 

Eira made a noise of agreement, and without moving to look at him asked in a sing-songy voice, “So, how was your night with Viviane.” 

“I thought we weren’t discussing our nights?” Kal deflected. 

“No, we’re not discussing my night. Yours is still fair game.” She rolled over to look at him. 

“Well, Viviane and I have just been reacquainted.”

“Oh,” Eira scoffed, “reacquainted you say? Mel and I had bets on whether you’d end up in her room or she in yours.” 

“That’s preposterous, we’re old friends. It’s never been like that between us.”

“I don’t know about that, she’s been away quite some time.”

“I promise, if either of us were remotely interested, you’d be the first to know.” There was a tightness in his belly even as he said the words. He knew that his friendship with Viv was new once more,   
the easiness of childhood perished as mistakes were made and as the years passed by. Maybe it was a blessing then, that his mother had spared them the match, so that they could enjoy the night fully without worrying about crossing boundaries. 

“I’d better be,” she moved over to pull a long, silk, braided cord to call for a servant. “Want anything?” 

“A tea, since you so rudely drank mine.” 

She rolled her eyes, but pointedly ordered his tea, with three sugar cubes the way he liked.

The tea arrived, piping hot, and pure perfection. The more he drank, the more revived he felt. 

“So, what are your plans for the day, before this evening,” he prodded. 

“To sleep.”

“Didn’t get much sleep did you?”

Eira shot him a tempered look, “Not a wink,” she said with a smile. 

Kal found himself laughing. “Fine, fine. Go to sleep, I should try to do the same.”

“You really should, you look like shit.”

“Ever the charmer, Eira.” Kal shook his head, and strolled to the door. 

“Tonight’s going to be okay, Kal,” a serious look had crossed her face. “It’s supposed to be fun, we’re going to have fun. I know Mor’s garland must have thrown you off, but we’re going to dance, and drink, and eat all the pastries we can shove in our bodies, and it’s going to be a damn good time.”

“Do you really think so?” He looked at her sitting sullen on her bed, exhaustion crossing her face. 

“I have decided it. It’s going to be the best Solstice yet.” She huffed, and settled into her bed. “Leave me now, I have sleep to catch up on.” 

“Get some rest, Ei. I’ll see you later.” Kal gently closed the door behind him and walked the few feet to his own. 

Tonight will be fun, he told himself. Not just bearable, fun. He glanced at the clock on the mantel. There was a lot to be done to recover from his hangover, and a limited time to do it in.   
Yet still, there was time so sit and think. Too much time to think, he mused and ran his hand across his jaw. I need to shave, he thought, feeling the stubble scrape against the palm of his hand. He added that to the list of what he’d need to do before tonight, to present himself as a shining prince of his people. 

He missed when Solstice was easy, when he and Viv were children making wishes on their tree, and sneaking in the halls to imitate the reels and waltzes they saw their parents performing. Finding hiding places to watch the swirls of dresses and the glows of the stars strung in garlands along the balconies, long past when they should have been in bed. Until the nanny found them, or their mothers, and they were carried to their bedrooms to sleep away the magic. 

The magic was still there, but it wasn’t as easy to spot anymore, hiding amongst the tradition and the obligations that he had now since he was grown.   
Instead of preparing himself for the night, Kal chose a book off his shelves, the leather lining dyed a deep black with the gilded imprint of mountains. Within were poems that would calm his mind and do worlds for preparing him for tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello all! Sorry it's been literally forever since I've updated. I've recently started a new job that's a lot more demanding than what I'm used to, and I don't have as much free time anymore. But I haven't given up on this, it's just taking longer for me to write. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy.

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, this is very much a WIP, I'm still editing and working on the story as I go. But I thought Hecc it, might as well go ahead and post for the frosty couple.
> 
> Chapter updates on Wednesday


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